


The Dawn Of The Wolf

by distantstarlight



Series: 221 B Barker Street [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Accelerated Growth, Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Alternative Werewolf Lore, Capital Punishment, Clones, Established Relationship, Genetic Engineering, Genetically Engineered Beings, Globalization, Graphic Description, Johnlock - Freeform, Laws, M/M, Multi, Omega Sherlock, Same-Sex Marriage, Social Issues, Telepathic Bond, Villains, Werewolf Mates, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 37,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1309141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are known as Khan and Khagan. They're the most highly ranked werewolves on planet Earth and now the whole world has been altered. The Breath of Life has escaped and altered all humankind. Change is in the wind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Era Begins

**Author's Note:**

> It starts off slow....

A capricious breeze danced over the water and giggled its way over the shore and onto the moors. It tugged at the branches of low growing scrub, raced over the short thick growth of the rocky grounds and threw itself at the walls of Baskerville. Finding the behemoth unmoveable the breeze rubbed itself all over the facility before twittering away to find a new place to play. Deep behind the thick walls was a maze of corridors that led to a large room where a group of people were talking.

Molly stood in front of John and Sherlock and her grin was humungous. John was laughing merrily and if anything her grin got bigger, “I never would have guessed Molly, nope.” Molly nodded and accepted a very brief congratulatory hug from Sherlock.

“I know John. I would have thought it would be the other way around but no!” Molly had presented as an alpha and Anthea as an omega. The bite at Anthea’s neck was proof even if their distinctive scents hadn’t told the tale. Anthea was smiling as hard as Molly and kept hugging and kissing her mate joyfully. “We thought about kids but well, it’s a bit fast. Things are going to change quickly aren’t they so we decided to wait, at least for a while.”

“I’d like to see you both.” asked Sherlock. With a frown of concentration Anthea and Molly shifted. Now there were two beautiful wolves in front of them. Anthea was a lovely chocolate brown with amber eyes but Molly was a flawless white, her eyes like sapphires, “Oh, so lovely!” Sherlock looked appreciative and proud of the two new members of their pack.

Bill and Mike came in and they were arguing. John sniffed the air and barked out a laugh, “Hey girls.”

“Shut the fuck up Watson! I’m an omega! Mike is trying to tell me I should have kids now.” Bill was in a bit of shock. Clearly he wasn’t adjusting as easily as Mike who had also surprisingly presented as an omega.

“It’s up to you but there’s really no rush, unless you’re eager for labor. I’d talk to Sherlock about that before you get yourself up the duff. Still, there are plenty of alphas around if you want to pair up. You’re a handsome lad, they’ll be lining up around the corner to get a sniff of you.” John was giggling at his old friend.

“SHUT IT WATSON!” shouted Bill. Suddenly Gaiscioch was there and he growled softly. “Hey. Hi. John? Why is this guy growling at me?”

“Gaiscioch, Bill and I are old friends. It’s alright. He just needs to adjust a bit. Give him a couple of days, alright?” Gaiscioch stepped back but kept his eyes on Bill, just in case he was rude again.

“Your friend is in the presence of the Khan. He should speak more respectfully.” that was as close to a criticism as the old wolf would make. Bill looked abashed.

“He’s right, I’m sorry Sherlock. John. It’s going to be a bit of a change though. Sorry, um, Gaiscioch? I’ll behave.” Bill’s new nature had already kicked in; seeking a place in his new pack, trying to find a place his status would allow him to be comfortable. As one of the newest omegas Bill had suddenly become a commodity along with Mike. Gaiscioch was an older brother and instinctively moved to nudge Bill’s behaviour in an acceptable direction. Rudeness was not allowed in front of the Khan no matter how appallingly Sherlock occasionally behaved himself. He almost never acted out anymore, the ceaseless devotion from John and then The Brothers fulfilling that querulous need in Sherlock and soothing his fractious spirit. “It’s just weird. I mean. I’m not gay.”

John had to laugh as he heard his old complaint come from his friend’s mouth, “Not all alphas are men Bill, look at Molly. You could find a lovely wolf lady who would be right up your alley. Literally. Or you could end up like me, I’m not gay either.” Molly blushed as hard as Bill. She’d had a rather intense surprise after she had presented. Female alphas manifested a penis when aroused, a curious adaption allowing them to impregnate their mates. Female alphas were extremely rare though, the rarest of werewolves. Only one percent of alphas were female. Of course Bill wasn’t restricted to just werewolves. Now that their secret was out there was a whole planet filled with non-wolf alphas that would be more than interested in hooking up with Bill.

Calls for information began to pour in. Greg and Mycroft were re-organizing their personal staffs to handle the influx. Enough people were aware of their special circumstances that discrete calls were being received. The entire world was changing with every minute and it was a huge adjustment for everyone.

The news reels were filled with reactions from all walks of life, everyone hailing the changes as miraculous. John was weak with relief when he saw the positive behaviors being demonstrated all around the world. Wars that had been hotly engaged were suspended and soldiers put to work delivering food, clean water and other assistance as required. Goodwill or not it was difficult to cease conflicts that had raged for so long they were part of the local culture.

The euphoria lingered though and seemed to grow stronger as the day went by. People were milling about in a love-struck daze, sharing their new feelings with everyone around them. John wasn’t surprised to learn that every sort of eligible practitioner was performing marriage after marriage as love swept over the planet.

There were a few hiccups the most common being the bonds. People had accidentally discovered bonding and many couples were now united despite being married to other people. New laws would need to be put into place to deal with those situations since the bonds could not be severed but divorce could always be arranged. This rankled some of the more extreme religious groups for whom marriage meant everything but few angry words survived that first glorious day.

Their suite was jam packed and Sherlock became annoyed with the crowd. The Brothers looked at their Khan and filed out quietly. Half an hour later they came back and flattered Sherlock until he allowed them to escort him to the largest conference room which had now been fitted with a divan for Sherlock to sit on and lots of couches for everyone else. “Now you can speak with those you wish to speak with and your children will have peace at home.” said Alexander with a bow. He had been the lucky one who had won the right to seat Sherlock in front of the gathering crowd while John stood behind his omega.

Sherlock thought for a minute, “My friends, my family. We begin a new era today. With these first few minutes in our brand new world we find our old troubles shrinking. I hesitate to declare peace as triumphant and feel that we must take care to provide as much support as we can to assist people in making this transition. The world is much altered. With secondary genders I feel it will be just a matter of time before new discriminations replace old ones. Through the good news is still heard the bad, there will be people and places where bonds are not seen as good things, where new ties are unacceptable if they replace the old. We must provide guidance and temperance.”

“What shall we do Khan?” asked Magnus. He loomed tall over Ethan whom he kept close to him at all times. The shorter man was leaning back on his mate, already rubbing his belly which had yet to show signs of his pregnancy.

“We do what we’ve been doing but on a grander scale. We provide learning for those who wish to go through the program. We will begin feeding those who remain poor and help those who need help. The problems of our world still exist. We need to help people learn to help themselves. All werewolves must become guides and mentors to all who have changed. There are few of us and many of them but it must be done. We cannot allow the darkness to consume us the way it almost did.”

Indeed, amidst all the good news there was some bad. Not every single person was thrilled with the change. Some people couldn’t deal with waking up to a new gender and a different world. Among the older people there was a larger degree of resistance though there was nothing anyone could do about it. The changes were permanent. John felt like weeping when he read reports of shift-inspired suicides, a scant handful compared to the millions that were happy but still, they were lives lost that did not need to be.

The few true werewolves in the world were coming out and being well received. Indeed many of the surrounding villages near Baskerville had emptied one vehicle at a time as people came to verify the rumors that had floated around for ages. The wolves’ initial trepidations eased with their visitors once they realized that their neighbours were very proud to learn of the facility and all it contained.

The children were ecstatic and one family at a time the moor filled. Soon there were people and wolves lounging together right in the open. Volunteers began to bring out food and drinks and soon a massive party had spontaneously come into being. John and Sherlock rounded up their children and took their newest wolves out to meet everyone. Anthea was with Mycroft and Greg, cooing over their babies while Molly could not stop remarking over Sherlock and John.

“You were pregnant Sherlock? You had these babies? All six? At once? I…oh…I….um….John? You…you’re the dad?” Like the old days Molly couldn’t seem to pull together a whole sentence. Sherlock looked at her and shook his head.

“Of course John is the father! We’re bonded. I’d never let another alpha have me and even if it happened I’d never choose to breed with anyone but John! These are our children Molly. Look at them. All my sons look just like John!” Lucas, Benson, Calcedon and Tancred were wobbling along on chubby legs, each hand clinging to a volunteer beta minder. They looked exactly like tiny copies of John with distinctive overtones of Sherlock. With Isabelle and Fayre it was the opposite. The little ladies were tiny Sherlock’s with just enough John about their features to make it obvious he was their parent. Molly was still struggling with the idea that men could get pregnant.

“How would another alpha have you?” Molly sounded confused and Sherlock shocked her with the story of Vuk. He made no bones about telling it even when Titania flushed and The Brothers all glared at Vuk as if ripping him to shreds was still an option. Vuk looked at the ground but said nothing. He’d made his play and lost, Vuk had paid the price for losing ever since then.

“You were kidnapped Sherlock! Wow. I would have thought all of that stopped when you changed. You and John get kidnapped more than anyone I know.” John laughed then and even Sherlock smiled but The Brothers all closed in protectively. Molly looked at them with a bit of nervousness.

Cosantoir looked down at her and suddenly affection suffused his face. “You look just like my Sidney, little sister. Come, walk with me. I have much to teach you.” Cosantoir literally took Molly under his wing and began to teach her the old alpha ways that he’d learned when he was a pup. Molly listened carefully as they strolled and Cosantoir seemed very pleased. “Your mate is beautiful and strong, just like the Khan. You must be strong for her.”

“Yes Cosantoir. I’ll try.” Molly didn’t look very confident and Cosantoir tweaked her nose.

“You have it in you, little sister, you have won your mate and now you must keep her happy. You want to do that don’t you? You are smart, intelligent like the Khan, pretty too. Your omega is lucky she has such a good alpha to care for her while she cares for the world. There is much honor in you both.” Molly blushed and smiled and stared at Cosantoir as he continued his lessons.

Edward was running around with the children. He was laughing and giggling, running about on his hands and feet just as easily as if he were in his wolf form. Edward hadn’t quite gotten the hang of clothes again but he wore shorts and a tee-shirt, both filthy from the amount of rolling around he did. He loved the kids though and would play happily for hours if allowed. The Brothers took turns keeping him.

Vuk was being put through his paces by Firinne today. The alphas walked side by side and Firinne lectured the younger wolf seriously. John had no idea what they talked about but Vuk flushed in shame several times through the session but Firinne never stopped to let him say a word.

Young people were organized by The Brothers as well and set to handing out refreshments to residents and visitors. No one was allowed to just laze around all day long, The Brothers found tasks for everyone. John could see the tentative beginnings of a whole new world right in front of him as people began to smooth the wrinkles out of their new existence and come to terms with a whole new way of thinking.

There were good days and bad days, this first day one of the best. The Brothers had old ideas of how a wolf should behave and they taught it to all the wolves around them. Those wolves went out into the world as teachers or mentors to the hundreds of organizations that had called for them, begging for Mycroft and Sherlock’s educational plan to be offered on a global scale. That first week was so busy and John and Sherlock took meetings with Greg or Mycroft. They had a lot of changes to make and a lot of resources to reallocate.

World governments were reeling as their dynamics shifted. Instead of dealing with international issues like war or disease most governments found themselves completely ineffective. Meeting after meeting was held and eventually more and more people were included as the planet worked to discover what it was they really needed and what it was that they could finally let go.

The organizations that thrived the most were educational as people finally found the time and energy to do more than just make it from paycheck to paycheck. With most of their corporeal worries taken care of those first few days were filled with a mad scramble to register for nearly every kind of program available until every school of every sort was filled to capacity and had waiting lists ready.

John and Sherlock made sure they spent a little bit of time with just each other every single day. During the second week after his attack had passed Sherlock had a dizzy spell and almost collapsed. John held his omega and with Magnus rushed Sherlock to the infirmary. They could find nothing wrong. Sherlock insisted that whatever it was had ended and that he felt perfectly fine. When Sherlock slept that night though he had a bad dream for the first time in years, “John. It’s dark. It’s so dark John. I can’t smell you. Where are you?”

“Darling I’m right here. I’m right beside you.” Sherlock woke with a jerk. He looked panicked and held John tightly. “What happened?”

“I dreamed I was drowning. I was in the water and I couldn’t find you. I couldn’t smell you. I couldn’t feel anything. I was trapped. I feel trapped still John. It’s horrible.” John didn’t know what to say. He held Sherlock close and eventually brought the sleeping children to their bed. The babies always soothed his mate and tonight was no exception.

Far away deep in a dark room was a container filled with liquid. The room was empty, no one bothered to stand watch over what was in there. It was small, the size of a large pumpkin at most and it hung suspended in the liquid. Something waved around in agitation before finally becoming soothed. Monitors registered each and every movement, recording the data but doing nothing else.

 

 


	2. Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world has changed and the last of their friends have successfully transitioned into their new world. Now the real changes begin.

John was running. He was on all four feet and he was running, chasing, moving faster and faster until the ground disappeared beneath him and he seemed to be flying. He was searching for something; he needed to find whatever it was. Sherlock needed it so John needed it too. It was dark and it felt like it was raining. John moved faster. He was running out of time. Someone needed John, needed to be found, someone was crying in the dark. He was…..

“John! John, wake up! Darling, you’re having a nightmare.” John awoke with a start. Sherlock was holding him and stroking his brow tenderly, “You were having a bad dream John, it’s all okay now.” John breathed out heavily, the night terror passing now that he was awake and could see Sherlock right in front of him.

“What time is it?” John’s voice was raspy. Sherlock checked the clock.

“It’s only four. We should try to sleep a bit more. It’s a big day.” Today was the first full moon since the entire world had changed. Tonight people all around the planet would be experiencing their wolf openly. John wasn’t sure he could fall asleep again. He still had a sense of anxiety remaining from his strange dream. Sherlock bit his lip and looked down at his husband, “I dreamed of drowning again.”

John was getting concerned. Night after night Sherlock suffered the same strange dream. At first it had frightened him but familiarity had taken the fear away and nothing seemed to stop the dream. No one knew what to make of it and it had been going on for weeks. Tonight was the first nightmare John had had in a long time. Sherlock lay in John’s arms and held his husband tight.

“We have to keep searching.” Sherlock was obsessed with finding out the location of his stolen genetic material. He and Mycroft worked away at it whenever they had a rare spare minute. The last month had been one of exhausting change. The entire planet had been on the verge of catastrophic turmoil as the very nature of society adjusted to its new dynamic.

Old bureaucracies suffered the changes, reluctant to abandon the comfort of old rules even when they were completely stagnant. Official changes in policy were moving ponderously slow and in some cases, not at all. The economics of the entire world took two major hits, first through the legal pharmaceutical companies who were largely redundant now that the entire planet was healthy and then the illegal pharmaceutical organizations whose products no longer worked on their now disinterested customers.

The disorganization that had come from the stunned amazement of the whole planet had resulted in a kind of domino effect of problems. One or two were easily solvable but when they became dozens, hundreds, soaring up to millions of small problems John was wishing they’d never stumbled across Mother all those years ago. Chaos seemed unavoidable and it was already making their search difficult. Information was unreliably sourced. There were too many places in the world cloning could be undertaken and the trail had been almost nonexistent to begin with.

Mycroft and Greg were on a number of scents though. No one could hide from both of them forever. Despite the gaps in information and the almost painful slowness of the search they had a good idea at least of where not to bother looking. Chasing down all their leads took time though.

Baskerville was now on the edge of needing to expand or changing its purpose. As a school the facility was woefully inadequate. It was never meant to house students, only experiments. However, as a home for expectant mothers it was extremely well suited, so after a lot of discussion they decided to specialize and invited pregnant wolves from all over to birth at Baskerville. Mrs. Hudson was overseeing the initiative along with her husband and mate with Patrick as her assistant. John and Sherlock decided to move back to London and resume their life at 221 B after the children were bigger.

Ethan and his mate were going to come to London with Sherlock and John to help with their babies. Ethan didn’t like the close press of people now at Baskerville and though London was crowded he and his mate would be taking over 221 A and living in relative peace and quiet. Once that decision was made Sherlock discussed things with Mycroft and both men decided to come back to life as their original selves now that werewolves were known.

The dramatically long lives of werewolves were instantly envied and sought after but wisely no wolf volunteered to use their venom to change any of the newly altered. It took a lot of work but Anthea arrived back at Baskerville after an absence of a week with four packages, one for each of them. John pulled his open and found a new ID card renaming him John Watson and his husband as Sherlock Holmes. Their original birthdays were listed and John felt he looked remarkably good for a man well over fifty.

Mycroft was instantly offered his job back as a minor government official but he refused, urging Anthea to resume her recently vacated post. “England needs a firm hand but mine are busy with the rest of the world my dear, it will have to be you.” she acquiesced gracefully and returned to the city with Molly.

The Brothers’ weren’t incredibly happy with these plans. Ethan moving away meant Magnus moving away. Sherlock and John living back at 221 B with their children meant the Khan was not protected. After much discussion it was decided that all the homes up and down Baker Street would be purchased and true wolves would use them to watch over their monarchs. Still, the children weren’t big enough yet and it would be a long time before John and Sherlock were ready to move along. Ethan and Magnus were planning on moving to Baker Street right after Ethan delivered so there was time for everyone to adjust to the changes.

Ilva had some interesting observations; the tall werewolf calmly noted that there was a consequence to all the health and vitality that was enjoyed by all, “There is going to be a population explosion in a few short months. At least thirty percent of humanity is currently pregnant with post-change babies. While we are concentrating on feeding the world the world will not be able to continue feeding us. We can conceivably see the human race double in the next few short years and we simply cannot produce enough food for over twenty billion people! We need to think about exploration.”

“You mean space?” asked John. He knew Ilva had been staying abreast of all the scientific developments along with Siofra and Mai.

“The final frontier they call it but that’s never really true. Many people will be interested in leaving earth and heading to new planets and new civilizations but I’m talking about here on earth. The ocean floor Khagan. We’ve barely explored it and there is much of the ocean floor that is barren, a watery wasteland. We can build underwater cities and live there, leaving the surface of the earth for producing food. Many of the food fish in the waters have been seriously depleted but with some careful farming we can encourage those depressed populations to flourish once again. When Canada was first being explored the shoals of cod were so thick they used to stop boats in the water. We can get there again and this world will be able to sustain us easily.”

“Not everyone will want to live underwater.” said John gently but Ilva just smiled at him.

“True Khagan but enough will, especially since we will make it free. We need to break the bonds that have tied us down. People should not be slaves because we need to eat and to sleep. I want to take your vision and expand it, give homes away for free, provide food for all, give educations to any who are interested. We work on making our people better, all of them.”

Mycroft was intrigued. “We could begin research into underwater dwelling immediately. If John and Sherlock agree I would be interested in beginning sooner rather than later. As you say, we have less than a year before the first-wave of altered humanity arrives.” 

John gave his permission. Of course he did. Once again no one expected him to do anything; they just needed his approval and a bit of oversight. Sherlock was re-engrossed in looking for his clone. He was looking at a map of the planet and today he asked again, “Mycroft? What about my son? Have you found him?”

“You know it’s a male already?” Sherlock blinked and looked at his brother in surprise. Mycroft was looking at Sherlock with concern and a tiny measure of surprise. Sherlock shook his head a bit in exasperation.

“Yes, of course the child is male. I….um….I……dreamed…..John?” Sherlock was suddenly swaying. John got to his omega just as Sherlock went straight down. He was entirely out and John couldn’t tell why. He laid Sherlock onto the floor, reaching into his husband’s mind to try and find him. He was there, but his body would not respond. The omega’s body was in a state of shock but John heard Sherlock in his mind, “John. Listen. Listen carefully.”

John listened. He could hear Sherlock’s heartbeat and from a distance John could feel a faint pulse echoing his omega’s heart. Suddenly John’s nose was filled with a scent he knew so well, a scent he knew better than his own, and one he had not smelled in such a way for well over a decade. He pulled away from Sherlock’s unmoving body with a gasp, “He’s alive. He’s aware! He’s connected to Sherlock.” John smelled the scent of Sherlock as he had been before he had bonded with John and combined their scents together. This was an unbonded Sherlock, growing somewhere alone in the world. “We have to find our son!”

John knelt beside Sherlock once again and closed his eyes. The unconscious man was crooning to his missing clone, soothing and loving the baby from afar. John joined him, sending thoughts of love through his omega, hoping that the baby could sense him even though John wasn’t his father. He was Sherlock and John loved him. The alpha nearly cried when he felt that first hopeful surge from the baby, that tentative flutter in his mind that suddenly grew warm. His son knew him, recognized his father’s love and was responding to it. John opened his eyes and saw Sherlock staring up at him. “It’s a boy.”

John called his pack to him. Just as they had done when Sherlock was pregnant all the wolves assumed different aspects of John’s responsibilities. Until they had their babe in their arms neither Sherlock nor John would stop searching until he was found. They needed to go back to their suite to hug and kiss their babies and scented them all carefully.

Sherlock sat on the sofa, holding one baby after another with his eyes closed. John reached in and grew teary when he saw that Sherlock was introducing the babies to their missing brother, “This is Lucas, your father made a very droll joke when he was a newborn, let’s hope he doesn’t do the same to you. This is Isabelle, be gentle with her, she’s very sensitive, like me I suppose. John is very calm. Benson was born next, you’ll like him. He’s a happy little boy and he loves to play. Caledon and Tancred are napping right now but look, here’s Fayre. She’s a lovely little thing with sweet eyes. Her nose is just like John’s and it’s the most adorable thing. You’ll love them and they’ll love you my boy. Your father and I are looking for you my son, we’re looking and we won’t stop until we find you. Momma will be here with you all the time though, you’ll never be alone.”

Sherlock opened his eyes and John saw they were heavy with tears. “He’s lonely and frightened. He’s being forced to grow very fast and he’s in pain. I’ve taken it away but he’s still lonely. John we have to find him!”

They set the children back into their play area and kissed Mrs. Hudson on their way out. She was nearly always the one in charge of their little ones. They’d be taking the babies again tonight and John was comforted with the thought of Dominic hulking quietly in the corner keeping an eye on his omegas as well as the royal babies. She squeezed John’s hand but said nothing though worry was all over her face.

Sherlock went to their conference room. Large screens had been set up on all the walls, some walls having several screens side by side. Sherlock called Mycroft to him and together they pulled up everything Greg and Mycroft’s teams had located. As soon as Mycroft arrived Sherlock made him pull up all the information he had found regarding the break in and what few tidbits they managed to learn from Edward.

John stood behind Sherlock who was still feeling dizzy and watched a miracle unfold. Sherlock closed his eyes and John felt a burst of love being sent to their missing child. The baby was sleeping at the moment but he shifted happily in his artificial womb when the love reached him. John managed to pick up the connection and maintained it while Sherlock turned in a small circle and looked at everything.

John saw Sherlock blink. He was absorbing everything Greg and Mycroft had gathered. Sherlock blinked again and John saw Sherlock unfetter his mind which had been impressive before they became enhanced. John could feel the power of it like a physical presence and knew Sherlock was expending a lot of energy to analyze the global clues he had been given. Each blink was a huge leap in deductive reasoning as Sherlock traced paths, saw patterns, eliminated possibilities until one at a time he had the trail narrowed down to five distinct prospects. Not even Mycroft was better than Sherlock at this and John knew Sherlock could sense their child on some level, he just needed to learn how to interpret the information he was feeling.

“He’s not north, I’d feel him if he were closer. He’s further south but not too far. I sense mountains around him; there are impressions in his mind from the people that deal with his artificial environment. They don’t know he’s aware. They’re treating him just like an experiment; they have no feeling for him. He can see them now though they don’t realize he’s cognizant. All of them are different, from everywhere so that’s no help. They’re wearing badges though. There’s a symbol. I can almost make it out.” Sherlock closed his eyes, his arms extended out as if to balance or orient himself.

John stepped forward and took Sherlock in his arms, bearing him up so Sherlock didn’t have to. The omega used every scrap of energy he had examining the information he had. Sherlock was using something beyond the mind palace he’d started with, now Sherlock’s thought processes were so evolved, so fast, so incredible that he was able to sift and sort the overload of facts until the five choices he come up with were reduced to two. “He’s in India. There are two separate locations that are equally probable. Both of these facilities are similar to the Baskerville of old. It’s going to be hard to get in to either but not impossible. Brother.”

John had to scoop Sherlock into his arms, his husband too weak to stand even for a minute longer. John still found it easy to hold the much larger man, his legs and back strong and sure. Mycroft looked somber, “So. It’s either The Institute or Blackwater. Neither is a healthy environment for a child.” John hadn’t heard of either but Mai gasped in horror.

“Tell me.” demanded John. Where was their son being grown?

“The Institute is the worse of the two. They specialized in human manipulation, completely illegal but they make enough of a profit to keep several criminal empires protecting them as well as the local government. Blackwater is only comparatively better; they have been rumored to do long term conditioning, soldiers and the like. Nasty business either way.” reported Mai. She turned her worried eyes to Sherlock who was nearly unconscious again, “Blackwater is run by a consortium but the Institute is run by one man, Noonien Singh.”

John couldn’t do anything until Sherlock recovered. “Mycroft, make arrangements for both places, get The Brothers to help. Get Bill in here, he’s ex-military, he can help plan an extraction. Mai, call the labs. Utmost discretion is demanded but they have to set up someplace for us to keep the baby once we’ve gotten him. I know that doesn’t give you much to work with but at least prepare someplace that’s easily adaptable. We’ll contact you as soon as we know more about his requirements. As soon as Sherlock is recovered enough to move we are leaving and getting our son. Move it, anything anyone can do to make it go faster, do it.”

John carried Sherlock back to their suite and lay him down on the bed to sleep while John prepared. He wasn’t wasting a moment. Dominic followed John into the bedroom, extremely concerned about the Khan. John explained quickly. They had so little time now. The full moon was nigh. Sherlock would need to rest before he silvered and as soon as the moon time had passed they would need to leave. Three days. In less than three days they’d be crossing the globe to find their child.

John was filled with rage now. His beloved omega had been traumatized to create this little life, this poor little babe who had never known more than a single day of love in all its weeks of existence. Someone had hurt John’s family. In three days John would find out who would bear the brunt of his anger. Without meaning to John threw his head back and howled savagely. Throughout Baskerville his howl was answered until the entire building rang with song and everyone was filled with dreadful purpose. They’d find his son, they’d find their baby and John would tear his enemies to pieces slowly, saving their hearts for last. They’d pay in screams for what they had done. John was on their trail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've loosely connected both AUs via a couple of strategic lines. It will all play out in the long run.


	3. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere there is a missing child and his parents now know where he is. They're on their way.

The children were fast asleep at Mrs. Hudson’s. Dominic had just changed himself earlier and was napping in the middle of the cluster of small beds that held the babies. Like all the other children they had grown sluggish and had fallen asleep early. They would stay that way until after dawn. Sherlock was resting still. He had woken long enough to eat a light meal but dozed again. Their baby was also asleep, succumbing to the call of the moon like everyone else. Sherlock had made sure he would feel no pain and had left their missing baby wrapped in feelings of love and family.

John paced back and forth, filled with frustrated anger. It had already been hard for the alpha to come to terms with his omega being attacked so violently, almost more than John could deal with when Mycroft correctly guessed the purpose of the harvest and now to know that there was a bit of Sherlock growing somewhere isolated and alone? John could barely restrain himself. He wanted to get going, wanted to kill something, he wanted their baby back! Amidst his pacing a delectable scent caressed the alpha’s nose and John shuddered, all thoughts slowly ebbing away until there was just one thought left.

Sherlock silvered. All around the world the same thing was happening as mating pairs responded to the moonrise. Each hour brought the change to different countries as the moon moved west and chased the sun. Their biology had no conscience. It was time to mate and mate they did. John crossed to the bed where Sherlock was now fully awake, already on his hands and knees and demanding attention. John shed his clothes with every step and by the time he got to Sherlock he was naked and hard. 

Sherlock almost sneered at the alpha who wasn’t putting up with that right then. Pushing his omega down hard John took Sherlock roughly, making the sneers turn to appreciative moans. The long hours were filled with howls and cries of pain as well as pleasure. Blood spilled as John and Sherlock worked out all their anxieties on each others flesh, uniting as many times as they could during each wave. Sherlock encouraged John to be even rougher than he normally was, rejoicing in each crimson drop that fell, each savage growl from his alpha.

It was the first time John and Sherlock regretted their heat. They wanted to be on the move, searching for their child, bringing him home safely to be with them. Instead they were slaves to their flesh, each blazing orgasm barely fading before they worked on the next. They did their best to comfort and reassure one another, to let each other know that they were going to do whatever it took to reclaim their child. On the third day John and Sherlock washed up and dressed quickly before seeking out their children. They needed to spend some time with their litter before they left to find their brother.

Dominic stood guard by the door. He would not be coming with them and it rankled the ancient wolf. He couldn’t leave his omega behind. Both were expecting. Both needed him to be there so there he would stay. Dominic fretted at parting with his brothers but none of them could bear the idea of risking both Khan and Khagan, to not be a part of the rescue operation to save their stolen princeling. Claudius, Urraim, Dimitri would go along with Vuk, Ilva, Siofra, Mai and Titania. The mad-wolf Vuk had the keenest nose of any werewolf around. He would help find the missing baby no matter where in the facility he was kept.

The Hounds decided to attack both facilities simultaneously. John, Sherlock, Urraim and Ilva would go with Vuk and Titania along with a large contingent of trained wolves to breach The Singh Institute. Claudius would take Bill, Mike, Mai, Siofra, and Dimitri to Blackwater with a similar contingent. Mycroft and Greg would be on standby to provide air support through connections Anthea would provide depending on how they needed to transport the baby once he was located. 

They flew both teams as close to their targets as possible. It took all day to travel there and every minute that it took made Sherlock fret. Finally John settled him into a seat and made him remain in contact with their child. Sherlock focused on the baby and grew still, leaving John to pick up fretting quietly on his own.

Once they were on the ground everything grew silent. Their approach to both facilities was monitored by Mycroft’s team through small cameras placed on everyone’s tactical clothing. Both complexes were heavily guarded but for a group as diversely talented as the Hounds the doors may as well have been left wide open.

Sherlock’s team had the doors open in a trice. The technology being used to keep the doors locked and monitored were laughably easy for them to bypass, most of it having been made at Baskerville and the facility doors swung wide to allow the small army that had come with the royal couple to pour in.

It was Bedlam. The Hounds descended on their enemies like the pack of wolves they truly were. The guards were hired mercenaries, used to dealing with regular humans before the Change and clearly they had no experience with werewolves at all. Their weapons were useless but they tried anyway. One of them tagged Sherlock’s ribs and John went insane. The leap he took was mind-bogglingly long; John shifted mid-air and downed the man with the gun. Snarling John broke his neck with a single shake of his head and dropped the body while the other mercenaries ran to hide deeper inside the building. Sherlock’s ribs healed before he got through the now open door.

With the fatal exception of the guards as little blood as possible was shed but each facility was soon overwhelmed and swarmed from top to bottom, everyone searching for the missing child. Employees of each place were rounded up and all their data seized. Experiments of every horrific manner were being conducted in both places and as smoothly as possible, they were ended by the invaders.

While Bill and Dimitri led their teams through Blackwater, John and Sherlock followed Vuk deeper and deeper into the Institute. John had been sickened several times as they passed rooms filled with unspeakable travesties. They would end as much pain as they could once their son was rescued and help the survivors as much as possible to recover.

Finally they reached the bottommost floor of the complex. The staff they had rounded up on the second to last floor had been clearly surprised to see the secret entrance open. It had been the most secret of secrets for Doctor Singh. They didn’t go in unopposed. Inside there was a lift that dropped them down the final floor. As soon as the doors opened they were attacked by a small group of armed men. 

None of them were werewolves and did not realize how swiftly one could move. John shifted and before a single round could be fired John as well as Vuk had torn the throats out of them. Ignoring the bodies where they lay John remained a wolf and ran down the hallway with his pack on his heels, the scent of his son filling his nose. It was a maze down here and the child’s scent was everywhere.

The room they found him in was stark. Vuk had sniffed the air carefully and had followed a thickening of the trace scent that not even John noticed until they were nearly upon him. There were only three people in the room next to the chamber where he was being grown inside a long coffin-like case. The front was glassed in and it was filled with a thick liquid. Sherlock stood in front of it and saw his son for the first time.

The child appeared to be about eight or nine already. They had known he was being forcibly grown but this amount of growth shocked the wolves deeply. The unit was set up to keep him until his body had matured into adult-hood. Sherlock stared at this small copy of himself and John had to hold his omega up, “I remember being this small. I was already too much for the tutors to deal with. Mycroft was just leaving for boarding school by then and I was so angry with him for going. John, our son will never have memories like that! He’ll wake up fully grown with no past, no experiences, nothing.”

John looked at the small boy carefully. He was so tiny, so thin and bony. He could see Sherlock like this as a child, waif thin and filled with insatiable curiosity. This little one was getting no chances to feed that hunger to learn and it must be in there, he was a perfect unspoiled copy of Sherlock. John caressed the case softly and whispered to the boy, “We’re here sweetie. Mummy and daddy are here. We’re going to take you home. We’re here!”

Sherlock and John were projecting as much love and caring as they could and the child was responding, his body moved a bit in the thick liquid and he grew agitated but not upset. He was happy. Sherlock pressed his hands to the case. “I need to read his files, as soon as possible.”

John left Sherlock in the room with Mai while he sought out the technicians they had captured, “His files. Give them to us.” John just looked at the three. There were two men and one woman. They had all shifted. One man was a beta, the other an omega and the woman was an alpha. None of them stood a chance of resisting John when he gave an order. Without hesitation all three pulled up a mass of files and began to automatically copy everything. “Tell us how to transport him.”

The beta male began to talk first. The unit was self-contained. It needed a power source but beyond that it was designed to grow the child until he was mature enough to survive but that Singh had decided to keep him growing until he was an adult. It was a stroke of genius really but John was in no frame of mind to appreciate the sheer elegance of the system. John ordered the three of them to prepare his son for transport and all three obeyed without resistance.

Once they had obtained a portable power-source John followed the small group back to the room. Sherlock was still standing there, his hand pressed to the clear glass as he watched his clone. “Where is Noonien Singh?” John wasn’t going to call that monster a doctor!

“The doctor went abroad on business. He spends very little time at this facility. He comes back to talk to the project managers and set up new experiments but this isn’t the only place he works.” the beta could not resist being helpful. It was in his nature and he was too new to resist an alpha, especially when that alpha was John Watson. John very seldom used his alpha to dominate but in this place he radiated dangerousness. He was deep into it, reacting to his primal urges and following his instincts. His reward was the lack of casualties on his side and the complete ruination of two horrific organizations.

It took a bit of time for the technicians to attach the portable power source and prepare the container for transport. It had been designed to move from location to location. Singh had put some energy into forward planning but he could not have known that Sherlock would develop a telepathic bond with his clone nor did he realize how wide-spread the Hounds’ connections were. If anyone else in the world apart from Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes had been tricked they never would have found Singh. The combination of their ability to handle masses information combined with Sherlock’s analytical prowess made hiding forever impossible.

Sherlock was worried about the baby. From what he could read the child could not be removed from the container until the cycle was complete. It would be months before he would be out and he would be in a state of semi-consciousness the entire time. “I never got to hold him John; he’ll be a man when he comes out. I will never have gotten a chance to hold my little one while he was small.”

John didn’t know how to comfort Sherlock. He himself was still filled with nervous energy. The invasion had been too swift, too easily accomplished. John had certainly killed but it had barely been enough to take the edge of his need to punish those who had hurt his family. “We’ve got him now at least my love, we’ll care for him and be there when he’s ready. Who knows what would have happened to him if we hadn’t found him so soon.”

“It’s only been a few weeks but look how much he’s grown. He’s been in agony this entire time, our poor baby! He’s sleeping now, sweet child. He’s happy John, he’s happy.” John knew he was. Now that they were close he could sense the child clearly. It was shocking, almost like being connected to his omega but the child was so different. Everything about him was Sherlock yet not Sherlock. He looked like Sherlock used to, he smelled like Sherlock did before they had been changed, the child’s mind was sharp but devoid of the layers of information that Sherlock had obtained during his entire life. John knew he loved the little boy just as he loved his own children, it still didn’t matter to the alpha that this child was genetically not his. This was his son, no matter what.

It seemed to take forever but eventually the child was put on a small jet with a full medical staff in attendance including the three Singh employees. Sherlock sat at the back of the plane to watch everyone during the entire long flight back. Mycroft used his influence to get them a direct flight home, bypassing all sorts of checks and inspections to land just outside of London. John sat next to his omega and held Sherlock’s hand, their minds working together as they communed with their son.

It was late the next day when they finally made it back to Baskerville. A lab had been set up to hold the case. Sherlock had a bed moved in as well as some furnishings to make it look like a home. As soon as they washed up John and Sherlock gathered up all their children and brought them to meet their brother.

The little ones swarmed over the case. They could smell the boy inside and they giggled and poked at the container trying to get in. Fayre kissed the clear pane that allowed them to see in, “Luff you baby!” She hugged the case and kissed the glass sloppily again. Their daughter looked up at then with a gummy smile. The children had several words already, “Baby happy! Pretty baby!”

John got misty. His children pressed their faces to the glass and peered in, shouting at the small boy inside. They could sense him, scent him and they wanted to be closer. They called out little greetings and began showing him toys they had dragged in with them. Tears were running down Sherlock’s proud face as his babies told each other how much they loved one another. For the first time in days John felt the tension in his back ease. They had done the impossible and had found their missing child. Now all they had to do was wait until he could be released from the case, a man fully grown.


	4. Khagan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has managed to lead a successful raid to reclaim Sherlock's missing clone. Now they are back in Baskerville with their children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be taking big leaps forward. If I keep with the day-by-day descriptions it's going to be hundreds of years before we get to the end of the story. Brace yourself for rapid changes.

The world was changing so fast. Now that they were home with their child it seemed that time moved both too quickly and not quickly enough. There was turmoil as people shifted their priorities away from the old world and became interested in forming a new one. Old governments failed all over the planet and only the werewolves held enough of their organizations together to keep chaos from descending everywhere. There had been desperate times again and again, humanity showing the goodness it was capable of as they dealt with one region at a time to quell problems that arose from accidental shortages in food or disruptions in various services or any of the millions of things that went wrong every single minute of the day.

Old laws were cumbersome and prevented more good from being done than they did bad things from happening. Now that the world was so very different country after country realized that they could no longer operate as they had for so long. Homo sapiens had taken the next step forward and there was no going back. More change was necessary because the world was experiencing one massive upheaval after another as the old world died reluctantly and the new one shouldered its way into position.

At a meeting in one of their conference rooms Siofra’s book of werewolf law was brought into consideration. She and Greg had worked on that set of laws for years already, pouring over everything they had ever learned about pack law, alpha dynamics and human law from every perspective they could think of. For them it had been a common interest, a theoretical exercise they had never really considered making canon. All of it boiled down again and again to the simple biological fact that alphas were made to take control of their pack and defer to stronger alphas until you worked your way up to the point where the strongest most highly respected alpha’s word was the final one.

That was John. He was horrified. “I’m not being king of the world. For one it sounds ridiculous, for two, just no. Fix this! I am NOT doing this!” he was almost panting with panic. Siofra and Ethan smiled a bit but Claudius and Magnus said nothing.

“John you can appoint someone to do this duty for you, calm down.” Mycroft was smiling a bit as John tried to stop freaking out. “Nothing is legally accepted at any rate, the law itself is in question. No one can force you to be king of the world but the fact is werewolves are running things already and you are their king.”

John needed to sit down. Just the thought of those billions of people relying on John to make the choices that would dictate their lives was too much for him to conceive. He could barely manage dealing with his own pack and they largely took care of themselves! He had seven children to think of! A husband! He couldn’t be running all over the planet kinging all over the place. No! Just no!

John closed his eyes and reached out for Sherlock who was with their children. He felt his omega, felt the love Sherlock had for him and quickly told him about the potential future in front of them. Sherlock laughed, “You’re the king, make them sort it out for you. Tell them what you want for yourself and us and make them do it.” Well that made sense. John sent a wave of loving appreciation to his mate and an extra burst of love for the children, especially their new son who was still growing rapidly.

Their son! They hadn’t given him a name yet. It felt wrong. So much had been forced on the poor child both Sherlock and John felt it would be better if they waited and let him decide his own name for himself. He’d had so few choices and he would be a man soon. Months had gone by. Timothy and Armand had given birth to daughters and Michael strutted around so proudly that everyone had to smile when they saw the beaming alpha and his family. Baby Heather and Baby Rosa were gleefully accepted by the rest of the pack. John understood Michael’s feelings. John loved his mate and his children so much; they made everything in his world worthwhile. Their son’s forced-growth program would be ending in a couple of weeks and he would emerge fully mature. John was anxious to be rid of the case that kept them from their child.

It had been rough. Their children could sense the clone and identified with him as a brother. They were a bit confused at how big he had gotten, they themselves were growing normally, all six of the naturally born children now nearly three, fat and happy. They loved to hang around with him and knew when he was aware and when he was asleep. His eyes never opened, his body never moved beyond small twitches of his limbs. He was suspended in the mysterious fluid that sustained him, kept in an almost coma-like state as his body grew and grew.

The child hadn’t hurt at least, not since Sherlock had found him. Though his body was stressed from the rapid changes he experienced every single moment Sherlock had found a way to continually shunt away the agony, to leave their babe to at least exist pain free in his little dark world. His brothers and sisters comforted him. 

The children spoke their own special language, one filled with gestures and strange expressions. They understood one another though and John was always amused when he watched their strange dances of communication. They knew many proper words and utilized them if they felt like it but by and large they spoke to one another with little croons, dramatic body poses and strange grimaces. It was funny and intriguing.

John pulled his thoughts back to the matter at hand. Everyone was waiting patiently for him to speak, “Go ahead, begin it all, but in NO way am I being king of the world, alright? Fix it, do whatever you have to. This shouldn’t be in the hands of a single individual! I want to be able to be with my family like a regular person as much as possible. I don’t care how many people you have to use, fix it now!”

Siofra bowed formally to John. She rarely made acts of obeisance but John realized he had just given an order in a much firmer voice than he normally used, there had been a strange undertone to it. He’d never heard it before. John rarely gave direct orders, his people knew what they were doing, often better than John did and he didn’t need to tell them how to do their jobs.

Claudius laughed. “You may not wish it Khagan but you are king. When you speak with your dominant voice, all who hear will now obey.” Oh god no! That was awful! John didn’t want to compel people to do his will! That was the worst piece of information he’d gotten all day.

“You’re stronger than I am, older, why doesn’t it work for you?” challenged John! Claudius smiled and looked down at John. Suddenly the ancient wolf stood tall and snarled down at John. John immediately snarled back, even taking a step forward as he answered the challenge. John was instantly furious, instantly ready for battle. Claudius was a member of his pack and he would NOT challenge John in the middle of his own home! 

John suddenly realized that Claudius had taken a step back and his shoulders had slumped a little. His head bent the tiniest bit and John stopped moving. He hadn’t thought about it, he had simply crushed Claudius’s attempt before the wolf could take a single step. Claudius had capitulated from the strength of John’s will alone. “You are my pack, my kin, my king. You are the alpha of my mate, husband to Khan whom we love dearly. I cannot harm you. I may be older, I may be stronger but you will always win. You are king whether you wish it or not. For other wolves your dominance will not affect them quite the same way, for many, physical combat will be necessary for them to accept. We Brothers are your soldiers John; none can best us in battle. We will fight your fights, protect our pack and you will understand that you are king and you will be for the rest of your days. Those days will be long so set new laws in place, laws that help, laws that bring good to as many as possible. Be king.”

John needed to think. This was a huge thing! They still hadn’t found who The Master was. Noonien Singh had fallen off the planet somehow as well. They couldn’t find the man and they looked everywhere. John was ready to sift through each and every living being on the face of this earth to find the man. The Blackwater consortium had scattered as well but the wolves had rounded most of them up, only one or two still in the wind. There was going to be a baby boom soon as well. Millions of people had gotten pregnant after that first bonding moon and the one that had followed it garnered millions more moon babies. Here at Baskerville there were pregnant people everywhere. 

The Hounds had disbanded most of the labs and converted everything to natal care. They only kept the labs that were dedicated to exploring scientific advancements of various sources. Sherlock had already unintentionally solved most of the medical issues that used to plague the world but there were a lot of new physical issues that they still didn’t understand so learning would never really cease, only how it was focused.

Baskerville facilitated a training program as well, a way to teach the teachers so that the demands for training could be met even faster. Sherlock and Mycroft’s education program was becoming widely accepted as a universally approved way of standardizing education. More and more educational organizations approached them to learn how to deliver the program successfully so that people everywhere could go through it in order to find out what their true vocations were.

There was another thing that contributed to the chaos. People had walked off of jobs, leaving their responsibilities behind and moving on to their interests. That left a lot of work unfinished, some of it rightfully abandoned but others were mandatory for the well-being of all. Take food production for instance. It wasn’t fun to weed the fields or bring in the harvest but people needed to eat. Transportation was also a mess as a lack in qualified operators made international travel a tangled mess. 

The world! There was so much of it. John couldn’t be responsible for all of it! He needed Sherlock so he nodded farewell to everyone at the meeting and just left. John needed to clear his head, get a grip on everything. Walking swiftly John went home. It was chaos here too but sticky adorable chaos. 

Ian and Mrs. Hudson were ensconced on a sofa, their matching bellies jutting out while the children milled around screaming and being insane. Dominic was curled up on the floor in his wolf shape. He seemed asleep but one eye peeled open when John opened the door and drooped shut again when it closed. John realized that he’d become accustomed to the strange bloody red of it, all The Brothers had red eyes when they were wolves.

John went over to his omega and drew him into the bedroom. Sherlock realized John needed comfort right then and didn’t hesitate to wrap his long slender arms around his husband. “You’re worried about the legal ramifications of putting wolf-law into practice. You are concerned that your biases and ignorance will cause unwitting harm to many. You worry that things are happening too fast in some cases and not fast enough in others.”

“It’s such a mess right now love, I don’t know what I’m doing. Making these decisions or even not making them is affecting people right now! We can’t wait forever for everything to gradually fall into place or people will begin to suffer on a massive scale, no matter how good-willed everyone is. Someone has to take charge and it’s already becoming standard practice for people to turn to werewolves! We’re the only stable organization that spans the entire planet. Nearly all of us have gone through your program Sherlock. Claudius was right! I am king whether I want to be or not! Sherlock! I don’t want this!” John held his omega. It was far too much to contemplate. John wasn’t Sherlock; he couldn’t take in vast amounts of information and just handle it. John needed time, something that he no longer had luxury in wasting.

Sherlock wrapped his long slender arms around his husband and rested his cheek on top of John’s head. He let the alpha calm and steady himself. John scented Sherlock, the act of bonding with his omega like this always calming John the most. He held Sherlock tight, “I don’t know how you deal with things love. I really don’t.”

Sherlock caressed John’s back then tilted his head so he could look down at his husband, “Would it help matters if I wept and railed? How would my son feel if I lost myself to guilt or grief? What about our children or you? You can’t bear it if I’m even slightly upset. We have our son. He’s right there in our home safe. As soon as we had him I was alright. You fixed everything already John, I have no need to deal with anything. I have been frightened many times John, worried and scared, emotional the way I never could have dealt with before we changed but like then you help me now. You are strong for me and because of you I can withstand anything at all.”

“I worry Sherlock. A lot of things depend on us and I don’t like that feeling. I don’t like knowing that because of this we’re going to have less and less time with one another and our children. I don’t like that at all because it’s selfish of me but I can’t help it. I don’t want to slice myself up and parcel myself out to billions of people. I don’t want it.” John was a responsible man who took his obligations seriously. If this happened then he would do the very best he could no matter what it cost him.

“We’ll sort it out. No one can make you do anything you don’t want to do. Let Mycroft help you, he can help direct the beginnings of a new system, something that doesn’t actually need you to be present to operate. I refuse to allow you to become a slave to your title for centuries! You were mine first John Watson and the entire world cannot take you from me!” Sherlock kissed John hard, his determination to keep his husband close warming and soothing the alpha. “You are mine John, only mine. We’ll sort this out, I know we will.”

Sherlock had become so different from the days when they’d first met but John still loved all the same things about him, his amazing mind, his practical approach to problems; Sherlock’s steadfastness in things he cared about. He was still difficult but no longer moody, his intelligence had evolved but he was no longer bored. If anything he was more fascinated than ever with everything around him. Life was never dull around Sherlock; he still kept every single day challenging.

Sherlock asked John to stay in the room and left for a minute. He came back and shut the door. “We won’t be disturbed.” Sherlock wasted no time. John was anxious and stressed. The omega reacted instinctively to bring comfort to his mate. Starting with slow kisses Sherlock urged John to the bed.

The omega kept everything slow. This wasn’t their heat. This was love-making. Sherlock showed John how much he cared, how much he believed in his alpha, how sure he was that John would always make the best choice possible. Slowly John lost his worries in the arms of his lover as Sherlock skillfully made John forget that there was a world outside their bedroom door.

Back in the main conference room Mycroft was going over a variety of reports. At one point in their lives Mycroft had been considerably smarter than Sherlock but something had happened to his little brother, something that catapulted his thought processes far in advance of everyone including Mycroft. This didn’t bother the omega who was very proud of his sibling. Sherlock had always been unusual.

Something caught Mycroft’s eye. He’s set several different nets out to catch Noonien Singh and it looked like one of them had been triggered. There in California, an old experimental facility that had been dormant for months was up and running. The charter listed said it was now in the business of providing body modifications, the sorts that had evolved out of plastic surgery, a clumsy and antiquated method of altering your appearance. 

Body mods were becoming increasingly common in places. It was becoming fashionable to mark yourself someplace discrete but visible with the sign of your secondary gender. It was purely cosmetic in purpose. Everyone could smell your gender if they were close by. Along with tattoos more and more people were becoming enhanced, their breasts enlarged or reduced, hairlines changed, noses shaped, everything everyone had always wanted to do to themselves but in a whole new way. This place even offered a method of changing your body odor, something the newly smell oriented society would be intrigued with. Mycroft looked closer. He wasn’t interested in the services but the techniques involved had triggered his net. He didn’t want to disturb Sherlock and John while they were having some private time. Instead Mycroft began to examine the new business closely, trying to determine if it had anything to do with the missing criminal, Noonien Singh. Mycroft would check very carefully and then he would get his little brother. The Khan must be kept informed.


	5. The Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock was the victim of a horrific crime but one that resulted in something they would not have anticipated. A child grown from the stolen genetic material is now safe at Baskerville.

There was some backlash finally over the invasion of The Singh Institute and Blackwater. Their local governments attempted to begin legal action against the Hounds but found themselves stymied by their own illegal activities. The mere fact that they had set the legal ball in motion saw the local corrupt government as well as the criminal organizations that had protected it crumble in just a few short days. Their people were sick of being terrorized and held captive by the vile monsters that had profited so greatly off the misery of others. 

Once the dust settled there were very few of the old government members left but no bodies could be accounted for, not that anyone looked very hard. Not a single family in the regions close to either facility had been spared harvest or forced labor. For those who had family that had been lost due to the horrific experiments, well, everyone turned a blind eye when those families became closely involved with The Purge. A week after they had retrieved their son the new temporary government had sent a lovely basket of local cottage crafts and preserves to Baskerville with an open ended invitation to come visit as honored guests whenever they had leisure. Sherlock particularly enjoyed the hand-carved wolf figurines.

Mycroft had carefully sorted out his information before he contacted his little brother. John and Sherlock arrived immediately and began to look everything over. Once Sherlock had absorbed all the collated information he stood still for an entire minute, working over every single permutation. When he finally blinked John waited calmly while Sherlock intoned the information he had deduced from Mycroft’s findings. The ex-doctor had used the confusion rife across the globe to slip into the USA. There were trails upon trails, nearly all of them false that the clever criminal had lain to obscure his true destination. Singh might be working in California eventually but that’s not where he would be.

There was one place in particular that Sherlock felt was important. It was a small cosmetics business but one that specialized in hastening the seamless healing of damaged skin. They offered their services to the entertainment industry, erasing evidence of mars or even old surgeries in order to eventually produce a flawless body. Noonien Singh had a distinctive set of scars he would need to obscure, a series of crescents on both wrists where he had once been tied and bound as a young man. This business could make it like they had never been there. A little checking had let them know there was an appointment that seemed to fit Singh’s requirements in only a few days.

The trip to New York City was a calculated risk. John and Sherlock were both bait and the hunters. Noonien Singh had been spotted several times and Mycroft’s network had informed him that the doctor was shopping around for something as well, what it was they could not name. Sherlock and John let it be known that they were heading to the city for a second honeymoon, one they could enjoy properly in the open as werewolves. As anticipated the man had come right to them, determined to kill the Khagan and claim the throne for his own. The man was a fanatic and John wanted to kill him personally.

Both Sherlock and John were disappointed when Singh had arrived in the city and was spotted wearing facial prosthesis. They’d never be able to determine his true face! Sherlock had learned that Singh had used the facility in California to alter his appearance from his known face to this new one. Singh had also arrived with a large selection of henchmen but so had Sherlock and John, The Brothers refusing to allow their leaders to go to an entirely different continent alone. Bill and Cosantoir came and had overseen the arrangement of a protective detail.

Sherlock and John had relied on a local pack of werewolves to protect them as they pretended to holiday openly and they had succeeded admirably. Their American counterparts had set up a trap involving dozens of werewolves and their bonded partners. As a giant team they had excised one henchman after another. Only Singh had gotten away, mainly by sacrificing every single person who was on his side. John had his scent though, a strange combination of wolfy musk but peculiarly stale smelling. Neither man liked it but it was distinctive. The game was on. 

Sherlock and John raced through the unfamiliar streets just behind their quarry. They shifted between man and wolf as the urban terrain demanded but no matter how fast they ran, how clever they were they could not catch up. His scent just got fainter and fainter until they could not sense it anymore. Even using Sherlock’s techniques both men knew Singh was slipping out of their hands. Finally their quarry slithered away entirely and John stood in the alley deep somewhere in New York City and cursed. Singh had gotten away. 

John wanted to kill something. He was frustrated. Who knew how long it would be before Singh slipped up enough for them to attempt to catch him again? There were billions of people on the planet and Singh had access to body-mod shops everywhere. He could look like a new person any time he felt like it and no one would be able to tell John and Sherlock they’d seen him. John wanted to howl with frustration. This had been their one big chance and they’d failed.

Sherlock and John held onto one another before changing into their wolf forms and running across the city to work off their stress and to get back to their hotel. After a quick shower a taxi took them to a private airfield and after a bit of a wait they were flying across the Atlantic toward Baskerville. They had no more time to waste.

When Mycroft had found the series of leads that had been very promising, Sherlock had gone over the disparate facts and agreed to risk a trip. It was close to the time when their son would emerge and nothing was going to cause Sherlock to miss that! The flight rushed across the water as fast as it could and in a few hours John and Sherlock were leaving their helipad and walking swiftly into the compound. Mycroft met them, “The count-down has already begun.” John and Sherlock ran.

They skidded into the lab where it would all happen. It was equipped with everything they could think they might need. Their son had been transferred here during their flight home. John and Sherlock had hoped so much to have caught Singh and dealt with him, it was only for that one chance alone had they even risked it. They had cut it very close. Pushing all thoughts of their failure aside John and Sherlock linked hands and watched.

The technicians they had taken from Baskerville were there but they hovered uselessly as they had since they had arrived. Patrick stood with Greg who was also present as was Sidney, just in case. Both wolves were still fast friends, their divorce long since settled and their new relationships secure and filled with devotion. John was amazed at the pair; he wouldn’t be so calm around Sherlock’s new lover, as if such a thing could ever happen. John pulled his mind back to the moment at hand.

Inside the case stood Sherlock, fast asleep; his hair was long but hung in ringlets beyond his shoulders. A short beard covered his chin and a fine dusting of body hair covered his chest and abdomen just as it did Sherlock. He was nearly identical to John’s omega right down to the navel he’d presented after his false umbilical cord had withered away. His Sherlock was more feminine now; John could see the subtle difference in the shape of their hips and the curves of their waists. The man inside the tank was also missing John’s bond bite at the base of his neck, the sight of the unmarked flesh never failed to give John a sense of disquiet. He worried for the man in the tank, worried because he knew all of his weaknesses already, and John didn’t want their son to suffer for being who he was as Sherlock had.

The timer on the case counted down the hours and minutes in revoltingly theatrical red block numbers. Mycroft stayed only long enough to assure them that their children were with Mrs. Hudson and that everyone had been warned to stay away until they were needed. Mycroft ushered absolutely everyone out of the room to wait in the hallway. If Sherlock and John needed them, they would call. Only minutes remained. Suddenly Sherlock bent down and kissed John as hard as he could. Wordless he stood tall and together they watched the minute slip away until mere seconds were left and then….

three….

two…

one….

click.

Liquid gushed out, draining away through the floor that had been fitted specially to deal with this. It smelled strong, almost astringent and it slid out of the case thickly, almost like unset jelly. The door of the case opened on its robotic hinges with painful slowness. The glass fogged over for the first time and they lost sight of their boy for several long seconds. Slowly the door swung aside and he was falling forward. John and Sherlock caught their son as he fell, his eyes still closed.

The man was lean and spare just like Sherlock, the layer of muscle that had developed was unused and strangely tender feeling. He was completely unconscious but waking slowly. A shower had been made ready behind them and together John and Sherlock lifted him up and washed him carefully from head to toe in clean water. Using the most delicate of soaps they sponged away the remains of the fluids he’d been contained in, the astringent smell dissipating and leaving behind only the pure spicy scent of un-bonded Sherlock.

He heaved. John had been expecting this and easily held his son up as he expelled all the liquid that had filled his newborn lungs. He drew in breath for the first time and opened his eyes. There was no difference in the two sets; both men had the exact same heterochromatic eyes. The man clung instinctively to Sherlock, burying his face in his mother’s neck while Sherlock wrapped strong loving arms around his child, “We’re here darling, hello. John is here too little one; this is what he looks like.”

Shy eyes peeked out from beneath the omega’s chin. A little smile quirked the child’s lips and John grinned. Suddenly he had a gangly armful of newborn squeezing him tight. John squeezed back, his face splitting wide in a grin he wanted to share with the whole world as he held his son for the first time. The alpha was filled with a tremendous love and Sherlock had tears of joy streaming down his face. John pulled his omega forward and under the spray of water the three of them hugged one another tightly.

The newborn nuzzled his way over to Sherlock and to John’s very great surprise he nursed. Sherlock gasped and his head went back in wonder, “Colostrum. John, he needs it.” Even with six babies Sherlock hadn’t shown very much as he had nursed. His body had known he was expecting a baby, albeit not by normal means and had prepared itself to nourish the child. John immediately shut the water off and helped Sherlock to seat himself. The child nursed on one side and then the other for a long time before he was sated. He stood and looked a bit startled when he burped. He was operating on instinct alone.

John helped him out of the shower. He seemed to be able to stand easily enough, a bit wobbly at first but as long as he made no sudden moves he seemed stable. Carefully he dried his son off while Sherlock got redressed. Both of them helped the newborn into a simple tunic and pants before John finally got into the clean clothes waiting for him. Sherlock stood in front of him, pressing their foreheads together. They both grinned the same way as mother and son silently communicated. The child nodded stiffly, moving his head on purpose for the first time. He opened his mouth but no sound came out. Sherlock pressed his long fingers over the child’s lips, “When you’re ready darling.”

John knelt in front of his boy and rolled thick warm socks onto his feet. They had rubberized soles so he wouldn’t be slipping all over the floor but would also learn how to use his new feet. With an arm over John and Sherlock’s shoulder they led their son out of the room and into the crowd waiting outside. It was a lot of a shock for the man who blinked around. John realized his son was more like his mother than just appearance. He was taking in huge amounts of information with every blink. John didn’t think. He reached out with his mind and connected with his boy whose conscious mind had always been clear and aware, “Father. There are so many. Too many. Please, take me to my brothers and sisters.”

“It won’t be long, love, we just have to look you over.” John and Sherlock helped their new son into the exam room where he was weighed, measured, blood-samples taken and tears smoothed away as he experienced the quicksilver stab of pain from the needle. He clung to his parents, wide-eyed and startled and didn’t like it when anyone but them tried to touch him so Patrick and Sidney simply recorded the results while Mycroft stood by with Greg. When everything was done the rest of the wolves slipped away quietly and left the family to make their way home. Slowly they began walking down the hallway.

“It hurts father. My….feet? Pain.” John tched and just picked the man up in his arms and carried him. He’d never walked before and everything needed to be learned from scratch. Sherlock walked gracefully beside them, his hand on his son’s shoulder as John carried him through the compound. The newborn nestled his head on John’s shoulder and sank into his arms, trusting and filled with love. John felt so happy and he kissed his boy’s head affectionately as he walked. Although the man was an armful, John barely noticed the weight of him.

When they arrived the children were waiting. Mycroft must have contacted Mrs. Hudson because Dominic was there with all six wriggling children. The huge alpha left as soon as Sherlock stepped through the door. Calcedon was leaping into the air, “He’s here! He’s here! HAMISH! Hi!”

John was stunned! The children had a name for the newborn? Sure enough the man in his arms was wiggling free and slipping to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs as he was swarmed with six little bodies all screaming, “Hamish! Hi!” The children kissed and hugged their brother all over, holding onto his arms and legs happily as they rubbed themselves all over him. All of them were laughing merrily, even the newly named Hamish. He sounded so much like Sherlock that John was struck all over again at the rare gift they had been given. His eyes were bright and shining as his brothers and sisters snuggled him all over in a happy pile-up and John could have wept from the joy of it.

Tancred hugged his father’s leg. “We pickededed his name together! It’s your name! He likes it!” Indeed Hamish did seem to be pleased whenever someone said it. John had no idea how his children even knew his middle name but suspected Mrs. Hudson had something to do with that.

Isabelle was tugging at Hamish’s beard disapprovingly. “Yuck! Take it off!” Hamish reached up and fingered his beard, his face simply crumpling at her ire. Isabelle was instantly stricken, “Good baby! No, funny hair go! Baby stay! I love you Hamish, I’m sorry!” Hamish’s eyes were still wide and tear-filled but his tiny sister hugged him with chubby arms and he gave her a watery smile.

“Let daddy shave Hamish and then we’ll come back, alright?” all the children nodded and John helped Hamish totter to the bathroom. His thoughts were coherent and sharp but without experience to temper them Hamish was turning out to be an incredibly sensitive new person. John was glad he could communicate with his son, “This will feel strange but I am going to use this razor to remove the hair on your face. It won’t hurt but you will need to keep still while I do it. Do you want your mother in here?”

Hamish looked up, his eyes huge as he thought, “No father. We can do this.” He was nervous though so John hugged his boy tight and comforted him. He sat Hamish on the same wide bench they’d used when Sherlock was pregnant. Hamish looked around the bathroom while John got everything out. It took a few stops and starts, especially when John had to use scissors to get the worst off but after a long slow while Hamish was clean shaven, “We’ll save the hair-cut for later, alright Hamish?”

Slowly Hamish nodded again and tried to speak. A few whistling sounds came out but it was clear he needed to learn how to make sounds before he could begin speaking. His mind and his body were at odds with one another. He was mature in many ways, advanced in others but for so much of himself Hamish truly was a newborn. John didn’t want to embarrass the lad but he made him put on a set of padded underwear, just in case he had an accident. Hamish blushed, “I will learn swiftly father.”

“I know you will love, but this will help you in the meantime. I wouldn’t worry about it. Everyone else wore diapers for a year and a half! This is only your first one.” Hamish smiled and laughed. John was happy to see the familiar expression on his son’s face. 

Hamish stood with John’s help. He gripped the back of John’s neck and looked him deeply in the eyes, the words once again ringing through John’s mind, “I will learn QUICKLY Father.” John felt himself being drawn into the boy, all his thoughts, all his memories, all his experiences being sucked into the vast mind of Sherlock’s clone. Staggering back John felt dizzy for a moment before realizing Hamish was on his knees in front of him and he was panting. In his mind John heard him weakly crying for him, “Father! What happened? I feel so strange. I’m frightened!”

John took the boy in his arms and held him tight. “It’s okay Hamish. I think you just accidentally copied all my memories. It will take a bit to settle it all in there. I’d make sure I was sitting if you accidentally copy your mother. His head is jam-packed full of things.” Hamish giggled weakly in John’s arms, still feeling woozy. John helped him up once more and brought him back out to the rest of the children.

Hamish couldn’t help himself, when he saw Sherlock he went right to his mother and threw his arms around him. As with John Hamish copied all of Sherlock’s memories and took them into his mind. He collapsed weakly, gasping and shaking. Sherlock connected with his boy and quickly showed him what he had done and how to avoid doing it again. “I suppose this will save a lot of time explaining things. You know everything about us already.”

“Yes mother, but it’s not the same as being alive. I can’t even talk yet and my feet hurt. My eyes hurt too. My ears….everything hurts. I’m dizzy.” Sherlock wrapped his arms tight around his son. Hamish look weak now and John remembered how tired Sherlock had become when he had first taken Mother’s memories. Hamish had all of it now, John’s, Sherlock’s and Mother’s.

“Everything is new darling. It will take a bit of time for your body to become accustomed to things. You’re very advanced but you’re not even two hours old. Be patient. Your father and I will be with you.” Hamish snuggled into his mother and nuzzled again. This time Sherlock sat on the sofa and let Hamish nurse in greater comfort. He fell asleep in Sherlock’s arms and one at a time all the children crawled up onto the sofa, shifted and curled up to nap with Hamish. With a bit of wiggling and a helping hand from John Sherlock got out from under the pile of pups to stand with his husband.

“This is the happiest I’ve ever been Sherlock. Look at our children, all safe, happy and resting together.” John felt very proud of his family. His children were so smart, so beautiful and kind. His omega was so incredible John wished he knew more words to describe how incredibly amazing his Sherlock was.

Hamish was a constant surprise. The first few days showed that he didn’t sleep much and it took great effort for him to get used to moving his body. He adopted a stiff, deliberate way of moving that was all straight spine and calculated motions. His body adapted to being in a less liquid environment but he did need a lot of moisturizer when he silently complained that his skin felt too tight. After one day he mastered the bathroom and refused to wear protective undergarments almost angrily. 

Hamish’s intelligence was phenomenal and he had a telepathic link to all who shared his bloodline, which had been a surprise for Mycroft when Hamish read him and greeted all his little cousins telepathically by name. John was the only person not related by blood that Hamish could talk to and he adored his father, even dressing in trousers and jumpers just like his dad. Greg was a little put out by being somewhat excluded so Hamish hugged him a lot instead, the clone being very affectionate with everyone.

The children stayed together in a big group of giggles. They helped Hamish learn how to navigate things like cutlery and puzzle games, showed him how to play their favorite games which he really loved and shared their picture books with him, allowing him to ‘read’ stories based on the pictures but making up the tale in his head. Often the whole litter would be sitting on the floor in a pile, draped all over Hamish as he ‘read’ them a new adventure.

One at a time Hamish was introduced to the rest of the pack. He seemed to understand the inter-relationships between them all. When he met The Brothers for the first time he had looked at each of them as if he recognized them. His mouth had moved as if he wished he could speak but words were the very last thing to come to Hamish and they yet eluded him.

John wanted to stay with his husband and children every minute, to absorb every single thing that Hamish learned or experienced for the first time. The children were helping him learn how to eat soft food and he had a real preference for raw fruits and vegetables. At first Hamish refused to eat meat of any sort because it hurt his new teeth but he did occasionally worry at a small bone from chops or steaks because he liked the flavor. Leaving them to love and learn together John went back to his responsibilities.

The pack had come up with an acceptable idea to prevent him from becoming the king of the world, which still sounded stupid to John. There had to be a better way of phrasing it, but it would be better overall if they could just not let it happen. “A federation Khagan, each country or region can maintain its autonomy but still be a part of the larger organization. This keeps us from becoming a dictatorship or oligarchy but also stops us from careening wildly back into the bureaucratic hell we had before this. There will be several representatives and they can take turns being the lead.”

Well it wasn’t perfect but it was a start. John wouldn’t have more than the most symbolic of reins and that was a relief, “I’ll still want Siofra’s laws used though. The fact is that we’re not the same humans we used to be and we can’t keep using the same old mistakes as excuses. Fix it. Fix it all.” He got a round of bows and groaned when he realized he’d given another dominant order. Still, the world was still heaving with chaos, problems still existed and people suffered when there was no need. There was much to do.

There were still teachers to train and people to feed. There were still governments to re-structure and all manner of support systems to upgrade. There were underwater cities yet to build and space to be explored. There were laws to be approved and passed and good things to be done from it. There were children to be born and loves to be enjoyed and John had so much going on sometimes he didn’t know if he was coming or going. The one thing he could never lose focus on, one thing he could never put out of his mind was there were enemies yet uncaught and a family that needed protecting. John thought about that long and hard. Somewhere out there was a heart that beat stolen beats and every single one was a gift born of pure luck. Noonien Singh was still alive and John Watson would not stop chasing him until those beats ceased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John's not technically the dad but I wanted him to be connected to the clone somehow which is why I chose 'Hamish' to be his name.
> 
> WARNING - time warps ahead
> 
> Will be taking a tiny pause to re-read ENTIRE series because I am wrapping up and I don't want to leave any threads untied. It won't take me too, too long and I will try to update ASAP so hold tight, I'm coming back oh so soon.


	6. Big Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hamish has been born and now lives with his family at Baskerville. Life is so good now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm cautiously marrying the two separate AUs but this is still strictly speaking NOT a crossover. I'm not planning to head into space or introduce more than the minimum amounts of references to ST. I have taken some of the structure made available and modified it just enough to work in my frankly more desirable universe.

There was cake everywhere and small bodies littered the floor like casualties of war. John happily made his way from child to child, picked them up one at a time with Sherlock and transferring their sleeping children to their proper beds for nap-time. Hamish was out like a light on the sofa but John still managed to gather all the droopy arms and legs of his largest child and tucked him away in his bed right in the center of the children’s shared room. Seven beds filled the long chamber and seven happy children slept off the remains of Hamish’s first birthday lunch party. 

John was so content with his life these days. The last year had been incredibly busy and there had been so many ups and downs there had been weeks when John didn’t know if he was coming or going and he wouldn’t trade a single moment of it. Hamish was a special challenge and a particular joy. Their son was a bizarre mix of innocence and ancient knowledge. Emotionally he wasn’t much more mature than their smaller children. His social development was hampered in that he was Sherlock’s and therefore was naturally handicapped when it came to interacting smoothly with people he didn’t know.

Everyone loved Hamish. He was sweet, bubbly and so very curious. John was often misty when presented with the wide-eyed wonder Hamish was capable of. The alpha wanted to ensure his son got to indulge his marvelous curiosity as much as he wanted, never wanting him to feel constrained or forced the way his mother had been so many times. After nap-time the whole family would be going out and the children were so excited.

They were presently at Baker Street which had been seriously renovated. 221 C didn’t exist anymore and Mrs. Turner had sold her share of the building to The Hounds when she finally retired to the country. She wasn’t interested in being turned. Mrs. Turner was a widow and had been waiting for years to rejoin her late husband and had happily turned ownership over to Mrs. Hudson’s old tenants. Now Baker Street was child-friendly and had a lot more open spaces. Ethan and Magnus lived in the space once occupied by 221 C and part of 221 A. 221 B now sprawled over the rest of the building.

John and Sherlock cleaned up their flat in contented silence. Their children would only sleep for an hour and then they would be on their way. Today they were going to The Yard at Hamish’s request and then they were going to the Science Museum. Hamish wanted to see where his favorite uncle used to work and all the children were anxious to get to the Science Museum where they would meet their cousins and pack.

Mycroft would arrive later that day with his children as well as a large selection of the Hounds and their various children including Mrs. Hudson, Ian and their babies. Hamish and Greg were close. The child had noticed right off the bat that Greg felt left out because he couldn’t communicate with Hamish the same way everyone else could so he had made special effort to assure the alpha that Hamish thought he was wonderful and that he loved his uncle to pieces.

They were laughing at a joke Fayre had remembered as they walked into The Yard as a massive group, Greg in the lead with an extra excited Hamish at his side. The young man’s eyes darted all over, taking in the well-worn details of the building as well as the energy of the people within it. He was enthusiastic and dashed far ahead with Greg by his side. 

They were met by Sally Donovan. She looked a lot the same as she had before, more lines at the corners of her eyes and her dark hair was colored to hide the gray whose roots gave her away. Hamish looked her over with a single glance, “Bonded omega. Long-term relationship but unsteady. Developing tremor in left hand due to unresolved emotional tension as well as an addiction to caffeine. Angry expression and discontented mouth. Sally Donovan!” he guessed with a smile and Greg opened his mouth to answer.

Sally wasted no time. She took one hate-filled look and sneered at Hamish. “Well look whose back! The Freak! Well, I should have known you’d be one of the fucking dogs. We’d heard but I never really believed. That’s rich, you staying young forever while all the normal people die of old age. You don’t look any different. You’re just as freakish and abnormal looking as ever.” Hamish’s eyes welled up at the completely unanticipated attack and Greg started to shout at Sally even as John and Sherlock rounded the corner with the smaller children who didn’t walk as fast.

Sherlock had his weeping son in his arms instantly, his long body shuddering as he cried like the child he was. The other children crowded around Hamish and clung to him, all their eyes wide and staring at Sally Donovan like she was the most terrifying thing they’d ever encountered. Sally’s mouth was open in shock as she took in the real Sherlock and sobbing man in his arms. John was savage as he thundered forward, “I’m pressing harassment charges against you Sally Donovan! What kind of fucking monster are you? These are my children you are shouting at! Children! Hamish? Daddy’s here love, it’s alright. We’ll take care of the mean lady.”

John hugged Hamish’s back as he trembled in Sherlock’s arms, his voice was thick and shaky, his eyes wide with shock, “She HATES me! I can feel it. She HATES me. She thinks I’m hideous. I am, aren’t I? Mother is beautiful but I am NOT.” Hamish was shaking and slid down to the floor so his brothers and sisters could crowd protectively around him. He was their baby brother and six pairs of tiny angry eyes glared at Sally Donovan as Hamish cried into Benson’s shirt.

“Sweet boy! You look just like your mother, of course you’re beautiful and even if you weren’t which you are, you’d be the most special Hamish around. Don’t pay attention to Donovan, she has terrible taste. You just wait until you see who she bonded to, I bet it’s Anderson.” John stroked Hamish’s back soothingly.

“You’re mean! He’s only a baby! A PRETTY baby! Mean lady! We don’t like you!” the siblings turned their little backs firmly and kissed Hamish sweetly as they took turns hugging him and blotting his tears. Sherlock hissed, “Sally Donovan you are as useless a detective as ever. We came here by special invitation of the Commissioner. This is my son, Hamish Watson.”

“Your son! That man is the same age as you! Is this a joke? Is he your twin? A twin freak?” Sally was unbelievable. Greg stepped in and snarled at his ex-co-worker.

“Shut your gob you harridan! He looks like an adult but he’s not. He’s a child. A one year old little boy. Shut it Donovan before you push Sherlock and John too far. The Commissioner asked special to meet Hamish today.” Greg was friends with the current commissioner and had spoken to him of Hamish’s unusual situation. The man had kindly agreed to allow this visit but clearly had not known of Donovan’s eternal gripe against Sherlock.

Just then a rotund appearing man stepped out of the lifts and Sally Donovan had a horrified expression on her face as her ultimate superior took a look at the anger on John and Sherlock’s face, the grim expression on Greg and the pile of sympathetically teary children who had finally managed to stifle Hamish’s sobs. Tancred stood up and stuck his bony little chest out angrily before pointing at Sally, “She yelled at baby and called him names and made him cry! She’s MEAN!”

“DI Donovan. You will report to my offices tomorrow morning at 9 am sharp. I will review the footage of this altercation as soon as possible.” Sally was further horrified when the Commissioner bowed his head to John and Sherlock, “Khagan, Khan. I am deeply honored that you decided to come. Please accept my most sincere apologies for any offense given.”

The Commissioner wasn’t a werewolf. He was a bonded-omega with an alpha wife. He was also pregnant. John was still glaring at the now pasty looking Donovan. “Commissioner Cole, Hamish has been talking about coming here for weeks now. He and the rest of the children had a special calendar to mark off the days. He had been very happy until he was verbally attacked by your associate here. My son looks like his mother, it’s true. DI Donovan has always had ill feelings towards my omega and decided to express them to Sherlock not realizing that Hamish was NOT Sherlock. Donovan. Hamish is only a year old. Today is his first birthday so thanks for the traumatic memory!”

The commissioner crouched down and looked at Hamish’s teary eyes and handed him a brand-new handkerchief. “Well, that is a big brave boy if I ever saw one! Not many people WANT to come to Scotland Yard to have a look around. Most people have to be dragged here.”

“I wasn’t dragged. Uncle Greg let me open the door by myself and everything. I’m strong enough. He didn’t even need to help.” Hamish’s eyes were still damp but he wasn’t crying anymore. He dried his eyes with his new kerchief and Tancred stood right behind him, petting his curls soothingly. When he was a bit more composed Hamish stood slowly and towered over his older siblings who still crowded protectively around his legs and continued to glare at Donovan. He wasn’t happy anymore. Hamish radiated the desire to leave even before their special tour happened. Sally had ruined everything and that made John want to rip her throat out.

Sherlock glided forward sinuously and stood face to face with Sally Donovan, leaning in so close their faces nearly touched and hissed. “You raise your voice to my babies ever again Donovan and you will vanish from this world. Now, scuttle ahead and make sure everyone else knows to be on their best behavior because we ripped the last person who made us mad right to pieces.” Yes it was a threat and one that no one tried to soften, not even the commissioner. He simply jerked his head to the door that divided the public area from the offices in the back and with her head hanging Sally Donovan left to clear the way.

When she was gone Sherlock straightened up and looked at the commissioner, “That was a bit of a lie. He wasn’t in pieces. Just his throat.” that had been the attack on the Singh Institute when they’re rescued Hamish and John had done all the actual killing. The children giggled as their mother winked at them and even Hamish’s tears finally dried up all the way and he gave his mother a watery smile. “Come on Hamish. We can show you the cell your father and I once got thrown into.” that made all the children giggle and their happiness made Hamish smile again.

The tour was accomplished in short order with Hamish tucked safely in between his parents while the smaller children fanned themselves in front of their little brother. All of them made a point of shunning Donovan even as they charmed absolutely everyone else they met. Commissioner Cole received a shock at the end of it when Hamish laid a gentle hand on his protruding belly, “She’s happy. She likes how you feel when you’re at work.” With a sweet smile Hamish drifted away with his siblings, the small giggling mass making their way toward the door. Their curiosity had been satisfied and now there were treats and cousins to look forward to.

“He’s telepathic. He can speak to family directly but he seems to have an affinity for children and expectant mothers. I don’t think he was speaking directly to your babe but he is very sensitive. He can feel her emotions.” Commissioner Cole was still very surprised but was rubbing his belly in small pleased circles. With another small bow the man bade his prestigious guests farewell.

The Science Museum was swarmed with little wolves. In their excitement the children kept shifting back and forth so it looked like Hamish was floating on a fur carpet that danced around him. The gadgetry and impressive displays entranced the children who were all bursting with questions. Mycroft was elegantly flustered as his five ran rampant with their cousins. Mrs. Hudson and Ian strolled side by side as Dominic walked behind them, his eyes carefully watching everywhere. Ethan and Magnus were here somewhere too and the museum had been closed especially for their group.

The Master had never been located nor Noonien Singh. There had been small threats made towards werewolves but by and large there was peace across the globe. The last year had been one of massive upheaval, growth and change for the entire planet. Everyone had been affected by The Breath, even werewolves.

The wolves had changed even as the regular humans had though the changes had taken longer to manifest. The moon no longer forced a heat on them. Omegas could silver whenever they chose now but betas still only silvered during the full of the moon, now that they could silver at all. All werewolves could change at will as well, once again the grip of the moon had loosened and now Sherlock and John didn’t need to worry about not having human hands for six hours while caring for seven children.

The shift in social consciousness and a feeling of fellowship had consumed the world and now political boundaries seemed to exist only as a loose framework to used to define regions within the new laws. Siofra’s book of werewolf law had been examined, expanded upon, specialized, streamlined, re-examined and then put into place. The Federation had been born.

They’d kept the main offices for the whole planet in what had once been the United States. San Francisco was now the hub of the political world though Paris had similar eminence but only because that’s as far as John was willing to travel if his services as the highest ranking werewolf on the globe were ever required. The Academy had been built just north of San Francisco as well, much for the same reason. If John were forced to travel all the way to the Federation Council he wasn’t going to wander the globe getting to his next appointment. 

So far all John had needed to do was read the laws from beginning to end, as if he understood any of it, and sign at the end and that was it. Sherlock had gone over every clause with Mycroft, picked it to pieces, handed it back and allowed everyone to accept their changes graciously. John trusted his omega implicitly and Mycroft nearly as much. Sherlock didn’t care for law but that wasn’t the same as not understanding all the nuances of it. Both Mycroft and Sherlock were naturally devious thinkers and caught many clauses that were either awkward or wrong-headed. If they had approved the document then John trusted them enough to sign it.

It had taken never before seen amounts of coordination to change the entire world all at once. It was difficult for people to leave their past behind them and look toward a new future. Old hatreds died slowly, though die they did but it wasn’t smooth. Humanity was savage and it wore civilization lightly. When pressed even the great peace that enveloped the world was strained and occasionally broken. John had been sorrowed to hear of altercations that lead to the deaths of many who need not have suffered but slowly, one war at a time a cease-fire of sorts had been achieved. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot but at least now enough change had occurred that they were no longer being hampered by old rules.

It was getting crowded too. The underwater cities were still in the planning stages and there were children everywhere. Thankfully the desperate urge to procreate had left the omegas and when they did silver the option to not become fertilized was easier to make. As far as the werewolves could tell their venom remained unaffected but no werewolf had changed another since the great change had happened.

A lot of discussion ranged on space exploration. They had the technology to set up colonies on the moon as well as Mars so plans were being laid to make that happen. The asteroid belt was rich in metals so thought was being put into how to harvest the riches that just floated there. With resources like that at their disposal there was no limit to what clever humans could build for themselves. Many theoretical plans were already being bandied about as people made their old fantasies become real possibilities.

A lot of new technology had been spawned as dreamers found time and opportunity to allow their imaginations to become reality. The coming years would be exciting as all of it matured and became more than just rough concepts in development. That’s what had brought them here today, the children were interested in everything to do with new technology and had wanted to see all the beginning stages that had encouraged it to grow.

Hamish was very helpful as he lifted his smaller brothers and sisters up to take a better look at things and was just as excited as they were when they recognized something. They asked a million questions, quite overwhelming their tour-guide who wasn’t quite sure how to handle a group of very small geniuses. Mrs. Hudson stepped in. Handing her daughter Marla over to Dominic Mrs. Hudson reigned in all the children with a single word, “Soda.”

All of them were off like shots to the refreshment stand, all politely lined up and waiting their turn for their treat. John had to laugh. Mrs. Hudson had almost magical control over all the children. She was never cross with them, she was never flustered. Right now she let Dominic keep holding Marla and scooped little William out of Ian’s arms. Both babies were chubby and sleepy, right now they were out cold. John missed his babies being so small and envied Dominic for having two to enjoy. One day maybe Sherlock would want another child. Maybe just a single next time instead of a full set.

John was almost lost in his happy musings before impatient cries from his children reminded him he had serious obligations to tend to. Standing by the refreshment stand John doled out the sweet drinks carefully, admonishing the children to sit quietly and sip their drinks instead of racing around like maniacs. Soon there was a crowd of children sitting right on the floor, all of them enjoying their sodas with Hamish right in the center, joking and teasing with all of them. He was beaming brightly once again and all his earlier troubles seemed forgotten.

After the museum had been thoroughly enjoyed from beginning to end, the chattering group of children held their new stuffies or puzzle games from the gift shop as they piled into several vehicles to be transported to their birthday dinner. There was a theme restaurant that had games they could play and lots of space to run their wiggles off in. The party started the second they arrived and soon there were swarms of crazed wolf-children screaming their way in and out of ball-pits and climbing the padded jungle gyms like monkeys.

Hamish was in the thick of it, laughing hysterically as he chased his siblings around and had fun. They ate junk food and drank more soda. When the cake came out there were shining eyes everywhere. Hamish proudly blew out his single candle which made the server give him a strange look but she said nothing and just went away. The children sang to him but mostly because they wanted cake and singing came first. Hamish made them hurry because he wanted cake too.

The troupe of them got home just as the sugar crash kicked in. John smiled softly to himself as he helped Sherlock ferry their children one more time to their various beds, wiping them down as best they could while they weren’t moving. Hamish was snoring lightly and was hugging his new pair of astronaut gloves he’d gotten from the gift shop. John was misty as he looked at his son. He was so sweet, so innocent looking even if he did need a shave. John hoped he had more good memories today than bad ones and cursed Donovan for marring his boy’s special day.

John felt a spark of alarm come from Sherlock and hurried out to their front room. Anthea was there, “There was an attack on Baskerville. Someone tried to get to Hamish. Whoever it was didn’t realize you’d be out of the facility for his birthday. We think it was Singh but we have no evidence. Whoever attacked covered their tracks well but we did get a scent.” Anthea held out a jar that had some scrapings in it. Paint perhaps, or some other sort of surface that was easily scraped up. John opened the container. It was the same stale scent he recalled from before. Singh had made his way into Baskerville! He wanted Hamish!

John looked at Sherlock’s worried eyes, “We’ll never stop watching him love. Never. We’ll surround Hamish day and night with people we trust. We won’t let Singh near him ever again.” he turned back to Anthea, “Was anyone hurt?”

Anthea looked pained, “Edward. It was fast. I’m positive he was as targeted as Hamish was.” John felt a jag of grief. Poor Edward! The small man had worked so hard to regain a piece of his humanity. “The Brothers want Marcus and Dominic back so they can say goodbye to Edward.” 

John nodded, he’d dispatch the alphas as soon as they could get their families ready. They’d need to go back as well. Baker Street was too difficult to defend and even though Baskerville had been compromised it was still safer than being in the city. “Call in reinforcements. We’re going straight back to Baskerville and I want my family heavily guarded the entire trip! Now Anthea.”

Anthea didn’t notice how she bowed her way out of John’s presence but simply left to make his orders happen. John was too worried for his family to care that his dominant voice had come out. Sherlock looked determined. “I’m packing everyone up right now. You tell Dominic what’s going on.” John kept in contact with Sherlock the entire time he was out of eyeshot. He informed Dominic in a few brief words and saw the same jag of grief cross the ancient wolf’s face. The Brothers had been very tender with Edward and they would miss him.

The children were crying when they were woken so they could be bundled up and packed into vehicles but Hamish helped once again by sleepily telling them a story using his new gloves as props. Before they reached the outskirts of London their children were sleeping once again and there was nothing but tense silence for the rest of the trip.

 

 

You can get these at The Science Museum in London so, yay Hamish!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are they safe at Baskerville? What if the next attack is savage. How bad was this attack if Edward didn't make it? Was it really Singh.
> 
> *dramatic sting music


	7. Kin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has a visitor he wasn't happy to see.

John was unhappy and everyone was intelligently keeping their distance. He stood in the conference room where he had met with so many powerful figures, had made so many important decisions and where so many significant moments had happened and he was miserable. “Harry.”

“Hey Johnny-boy, look at you! Still pretty, yeah, not like your old sis.” Harriet Watson had not aged gracefully. Though the last couple of years had brought so much good to the world Harriet had decades of self-abuse behind her. Superficially they were the same. They had the same sandy hair, the same blue eyes, the same general features. Now though the brightness of Harry’s hair was artificially achieved and the wrinkles around her eyes would need some expensive attention. John hadn’t seen Harry since the day he’d come back from the army, wounded and devastated. He’d left two days later, deciding that being alone would be better. “Me and mum have been hearing all sorts of stories about you, looks like they’re true.”

John was a good man. Honorable. He had a strict sensibility and felt a decent amount of respect for people he didn’t know and therefore had no reason to object to. John was a loving and devoted husband, a keen father and a responsible leader. He was all these things because of his family.

They were despicable.

John hadn’t invited one of them to his wedding reception. Sherlock hadn’t asked and John knew he would not. In many ways Sherlock was a selfish man. He had difficulty perceiving that others might have family, connections or even some kind of life outside of time spent with Sherlock. As far as Sherlock was concerned there was nothing but a blank page in the book of John’s life before they had met.

John liked that. It was one of the many things he loved about his best friend. Sherlock’s complete and utter failure to understand something so simple, so basic, so normal was something John found particularly endearing about the man he had married. Sherlock had never once tried to engage John in conversation about where he had come from or how he had grown up outside of the day they had met. John shared stories about his time in the army, about medical school and the depressing bit of time between being shot by a sniper and coffee with Stamford in the park.

Not once had John been sought out by his family. He’d been in the papers plenty but never once had anyone from his family reached out to see how he was doing, to see if he was okay, just to make a connection of some kind because they were blood. Cold distant Sherlock had cared for John with more tenderness in those early years than John’s family ever had when he had been under their less than gentle rule.

John wasn’t a little brother anymore. He wasn’t a frightened child anymore. He wasn’t the unwanted son of an alcohol and violence infused family filled with questionable morals and unscrupulous business dealings. The moment of disquiet he had experienced when he had seen his sister for the first time in years dissipated and was replaced with wary attentiveness. “No Harry, nothing like you at all.” he quirked his head at her and radiated quiet menace, “What do you want?”

“Oi look at Johnny being all dangerous and whatnot! Don’t try your bulldog tactics on me Johnny-boy. I used to smack you around easy, don’t think I don’t have it in me to give you a right wallop if I think you need it.” Harry’s mouth twisted up in the mean half-smile that used to render a smaller version of John rigid with fear. 

Now it just made John huff impatiently. His sister put him on edge and John tried to rein himself in, “Harry, what is that you want? I’m a busy man.”

“Mum’s dying. She wants to see you.” Harry looked keenly and John who just looked indifferently back at her.

John realized she was waiting for him to respond, “And? What, you actually expect me to go? Why?”

“She’s your mum John! Of course you’re going to go.” Harry actually seemed surprised at John’s disinterest.

“Harry, I’m fifty-seven now. Mum hasn’t wanted to see me in oh…. thirty-nine years. Why now?” What in the world could his mother be thinking? John was actually surprised she was still alive. With the life his family led he would have thought his mother in her grave beside his father years ago. John thought for a minute longer and his brow furrowed, “What could you possible want from me?” They couldn’t lack for food or shelter, everyone had that now. Money wasn’t even being used anymore; there was no need for it. Neither of them would even need to work unless they found something they liked doing. They couldn’t need medical care so what was it they could possibly want from John?

This was the point Sherlock trailed in. He was dressed in one of the long loose robes he favored, the fabric dragging a bit behind him, his chest bared and a wide belt holding it shut just above the delicate curve of his hips. Sherlock’s long curls graced the very tops of his shoulders and his jeweled eyes caught the light. John heaved a relieved sigh when his omega approached, “Hi sugar. I’m Harry!” the smile that had been one John’s lips vanished when he heard the lascivious tones in his sister’s voice. John cut his eyes towards her and sure enough Harry was eyeing Sherlock with lewd intent.

“John darling, what smells in here? I followed something rancid all the way down the corridor.” Sherlock draped himself over John, completely ignoring Harry and pressed a loving kiss to his alpha’s mouth. “It’s not you. You smell delicious.”

“What the utter fuck Johnny! This little treat is yours? Bloody hell, well, introduce us.” Harry’s grin was as full of leers as it had been a moment ago but John simply turned to his only sibling and sighed in irritation. Harry had made a point of either at least hitting on or sleeping with every girl John had ever tried to be involved with until he’d finally left home.

“Harry this is my husband, Sherlock. Darling? This is my sister, Harriet.” Sherlock drew himself up tall and looked down imperiously at Harry who looked a bit astounded as the force of Sherlock’s rather overwhelming personality rolled over her. Sherlock sniffed the air delicately and wrinkled his nose fractionally before extending an elegant hand.

“Sherlock Watson-Holmes, pleased to meet you Harriet.” Harry took Sherlock’s hand eagerly and held it a little too long. Sherlock pulled it away and then wiped his hand on his robe. “Your palms are sweaty.”

“Yeah, they get that way when I get excited.” Harry was a beta. She barely registered as one but her scent didn’t lie. She was also aroused by Sherlock, clearly interested in seeing how welcoming John would be. John wanted to rip her face off. “Call me Harry.”

Sherlock sniffed again, “Sorry to disappoint Harriet, even if I weren’t married to your brother which I am, and even if I weren’t bonded to my husband, which I am, I am not a woman despite my current appearance, and even if I were a woman, free, unbonded and available I would never sink so low as to choose a person like you to share any sort of intimacy with.”

“You’re not a woman? John! When’d you start playing for the same team?” John took a deep breath and said nothing because he knew damn well Harry had heard John introduce Sherlock as his husband. He had no interest in allowing Harry to antagonize him. Like always, Harry didn’t stop, “Cor Sherl, you are a pretty, pretty man.”

“You may refer to me as Khan. Khagan, the delegates are waiting.” Sherlock had no need to come here to tell John that. He was putting on a show for John’s benefit and John bit back a smile. Harry was taken aback.

“Khan? Is that your name? I thought it was Holmes or something.” Harry was still blatantly checking Sherlock over.

The omega looked disdainfully down at John’s sister. “It’s my title since John is my bond-mate.”

“Title? What, you gotten uppity now Johnny? Forget where you came from did you? What kind of line has he been feeding those pretty lips Khan? He’s just a doctor or do you even do that anymore Johnny? Last time we spoke you said you couldn’t do it anymore. Never took you for a quitter but whatever.” Harry was as offensively obnoxious with her putdowns as she always had been.

Dominic came into the room with the rest of The Brothers. Harry stared at the huge hulking men. As soon as they’d all arrived they shifted as one and the walls became lined with hundreds of pounds of slavering wolf. Harry looked like she wanted to vomit, “You work with the DOGS Johnny? You actually can stand to be around those FREAKS?”

Sherlock flinched. John saw it clearly and then he saw red. Shifting and leaping at the same time John pinned his sister to the floor and snarled savagely. Harry was screaming beneath him and it was by sheer will alone that John didn’t kill his sister. He shifted back, his now blunt teeth still exposed as he nearly spat in her face, “Wolves Harry, wolves. Not dogs. Did you think I just had really good moisturizer or something? I’m a wolf Harry. Now tell me. What. Do. You. Want.”

“Jesus Johnny! You’re one of THEM! Oh my god. Get off me you fucking animal!” Harry had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.

Sherlock bared his teeth as well and blunt or not he looked savage. “Be proud Harriet Watson, your brother is the king.” Harry was horrified as John drew back and glared down at her.

“Fucking hell Johnny, that fucker was telling the truth!” John looked sharply at his sister. She smelled like fear and disgust as well as astonishment.

“Who told you what Harry?” For a minute John wasn’t sure Harry would obey, she resisted so he repeated his command, this time allowing the dominant qualities of his voice come forth. It worked.

Harry answered in a daze, “A man came to see mum. Said he knew about you and that you’d stolen something. He wants it back. The man took Clara, said he’d trade her for whatever it was that you took. He was weird, creepy. Clara was gone before he even spoke to me, I had no idea. He’s got my wife Johnny so I came here to get back whatever the fuck it was you stole! He’s a dog….a wolf too.”

Harry had always found it so easy to use slurs to describe everyone who wasn’t her. John had trained himself to always be especially polite to people because the way his sister spoke had always left a hot knot of shame twisting in John’s insides. Sherlock’s insults were impersonal for the most part and amusing many times. After growing up with the malicious hatefulness of Harry, putting up with Sherlock had been easy.

“We don’t know Clara so why should it matter to us if she was taken?” said Sherlock with a deliberately bored voice. John knew he was vitally interested as was John. John had a nearly positive idea who the kidnapper was. “You believed your brother was a thief rather quickly.”

“John’s a Watson, a late bloomer maybe but a Watson. Mum’s the one that thought telling him she was dying would work.” John scowled down at his sister. He was NOTHING like the seedy members of his blood relations. He was an aberration, an outcast, a misfit. When he’d left to join the army because he believed in something greater than himself he’d been laughed at for a fool. When he’d come back broken Harry had let him kip on her sofa and mocked him for his choices until he’d left to heal on his own in a barren bedsit.

Sherlock was smiling now, clearly amused, “John I love you more than ever now. You are a lotus blossom, aren’t you?” John rolled his eyes but Sherlock merely projected the image of a beautiful flower growing out of the muck, its pristine petals spread in colorful glory. John felt almost overwhelmed at how much Sherlock’s love for him warmed him through. John realized then that Sherlock must have known about his family all this time. Sherlock had ranged John’s memories freely, John almost never said no to Sherlock. Sherlock winked at him and John grinned.

“I don’t care what you took Johnny, just hand it over and let me get my wife back!” demanded the woman on the floor. John looked down at her implacably. “Johnny! Clara is a good person, better than I deserve. Give me whatever you took and let me get her!”

“Did you even ask what it was Harry? The thing you believe I stole?” Harry shook her head. She stood there, her lips turned into an impatient scowl as she ignored The Brothers with impressive looking bravado. She stank of fear, “Sherlock?”

His omega paused for a moment then closed his eyes. Opening them Sherlock stared hard at Harry for a few minutes while she shifted her feet in agitation. A small tap at the door announced the arrival of Hamish. Harry’s mouth fell open in astonishment. Sherlock looked down at John’s sister, “This is what we stole, our son, Hamish. Little one, this is your aunt Harriet. Don’t shake her hand. She wants to trade you for some woman we don’t know.”

Hamish was four now. He still moved stiffly, his rigid body so different from his mother’s almost sinuous motions. He kept his hair neatly trimmed like John’s and still wore jumpers and trousers but he was Sherlock right down to his toes. Hamish looked at his aunt, his eyes flickering over her, “Life-long alcoholic, the Breath kept her from dying of a rather unpleasant liver disorder, chronic philanderer, one-night stands on so-called business trips I imagine considering how she’s dressed. Good to meet you Harriet, I’m Hamish. You’ve met Noonien Singh I presume.”

“He said his name was Richard. Richard Montagne.” now Harry staggered back but jerked away when she got too close to Cosantoir who was leaning on the wall behind her.

“You were supposed to meet him somewhere when you got what he asked for. Where?” demanded John. He could give two fucks about this Clara person. Maybe she was a saint but whatever she was, she wasn’t his son. They had a chance to catch Noonien Singh and that’s what mattered to John. They’d never forgotten poor Edward either. The Brothers had scattered his sad ashes along the moor where he’d spent so many happy days and then had grieved for ages for their lost friend.

“I have to send him verification. He said to take a picture of it when I got it. He said he’d set up a place to meet after. How did he suppose I’d get your kid from you?” John and Sherlock knew. It was a trap within a trap. Singh knew they’d try to take advantage of this situation. Why was he revealing his hand now? They’d never allow him to take Hamish from them. Sherlock snapped Harry’s mobile away from her, deftly transferring all her contact information and dumping it into their system.

For the last three years they had lived a very guarded life. They stayed at Baskerville with their children surrounded by acres of watchers. There were a lot of new mothers still enjoying the end of their pregnancy at the facility and no one wanted to endanger them. The Brothers had organized layers of protection that radiated out from Baskerville to cover miles of ground all around them. Bill maintained it. Harry would have no chance at all of getting Hamish out of the area, even if he was willing to go. No one would let him or Harry leave unless John or Sherlock, or better, both parents, were with him.

“How do you know that Richard Montagne is a wolf?” asked John. They needed as much information as possible. Harry’s face wrinkled in distaste.

“He changed in front of me. I never trusted dogs. I mean werewolves. You don’t die. Why the fuck do you care? All you bastards rule the fucking world. Now my Clara is gone and you’re not going to help are you Johnny. No you’re just going to hole up here in your gold plated den and let her fucking die like the shit you are! I may as well go home and wait for him to drop off her hands. He said he’d be sending her back piece at a time.” Harry was crying now and John just looked impassively at her.

“Like I give a toss about your tears Harry, you’re right about that. We’re going to help you but only because it’s convenient for us. We’re going to have a happy reunion Harry, won’t that be nice? You and I are going to be on the news all over the planet; estranged brother and sister reunite at last. We’ll have dinner in London to celebrate, just the four of us.” John nodded to Urraim who immediately slipped out of the room. London was nearly as safe as Baskerville. There wasn’t anywhere in the city they could go that wasn’t filled with helping hands. Over time The Hounds had laid several traps and all they needed was the right trigger. This was perfect.

“What the fuck are you doing Johnny? I can’t fuck around with Clara’s life. If I have to hand that guy over I will. I don’t know you kid, but I want my wife back.” John snorted. He wasn’t surprised. The only difference between Harry and John is that his indifference to her situation was new but her uncaring attitude about him had been there since he had first been laid in the cradle. If John had heard about Clara without knowing she was married to his sister he would have been more interested in helping her escape. Right now he couldn’t bring himself to feel much sympathy for anyone who thought that marrying Harriet Watson was a good idea.

“Alexander, bring my sister to one of the empty apartments and keep her there. Harry if you need food or something just let Alexander know and something will be brought to you. You’ll have to excuse us now; I have a planet to run.” Sputtering and objecting Harry was dragged away by Alexander who handled her with gentle but unyielding hands.

John had a lot of meetings to take that day and impatiently he worked his way through all of them. Most of it was purely ceremonial, John presided over the more important details but by and large he was a seldom seen figurehead. It was still more time than he liked but his pack had arranged everything so John oversaw everything but wasn’t required to be hands on for every project. Instead John was free to raise his children and be a husband to Sherlock.

The children, they’d need to stay behind for this venture. John wasn’t entirely comfortable with that but there was nothing to be done for it. Mrs. Hudson, Ian and Dominic could be trusted. John decided to take half The Brothers plus their mates and children, leaving the rest behind. They’d stay up and down Baker Street to await any orders. 

Finally John had plans he could make, a foe he could target. Relief flooded him and he gave Hamish a quick tight hug. His son took his hand and with Sherlock they went to meet with the rest of the pack. They had plans to make and every angle would need to be considered. Noonien Singh was in their sights.

 

Lotus Blossom

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was short but I needed to get ready for the upcoming installments so.....your patience has been appreciated and I will hopefully be rewarding you with much quicker updates now that I know what I'm doing.


	8. Singh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has shown up and tried to manipulate John and Sherlock into helping her. Things don't go quite the way she'd hoped.

John had gotten members of the press to ‘catch’ John out for the day with Harry, John and Hamish in London. Hamish’s face was always just a bit obscured but he was recognizable to anyone who knew him and Singh knew. They were going to allow themselves to be kidnapped. Already John had heard bits of rumor that trickled back to them by way of a seriously modified homeless network. There were no homeless people anymore; it was just a large group of rather free-range and energetic teens who liked to roam the city.

It wasn’t like the old days when you could discretely pay off some thugs to do some damage for you while you hid incognito in the shadows. Now it was harder to find thugs-for-hire but not impossible. There were several available in London and one at a time all of them had been engaged by a mysterious stranger from out of town. Now John and Sherlock walked almost carelessly through the streets of London with Hamish who wore a deeply hooded coat and Harry who was smiling miserably as she played a role.

Hamish didn’t like Harry. He had taken one sniff of her and recoiled. Hamish didn’t like being separated from his siblings either and only his constant mental contact with them helped him with his loneliness. Hamish always sat between his parents and tried to stay as physically far from his aunt as possible. The looks she gave him were revolting. She couldn’t seem to grasp that big or not, Hamish was just a child. Only the snarling grimaces thrown by Sherlock stayed her greedy hands. Finally, John pulled his sister aside and nearly spit on her, “This is your NEPHEW! Your blood! You came to us to rescue your fucking wife for fucks sakes and you keep eye-fucking my husband and my son! If you don’t stop Sherlock is going to rip your eyes right out of their sockets and pickle them. I’m not even joking. He’s got the jars ready.”

“Shut the fuck up Johnny. Looking doesn’t hurt anyone. I haven’t done anything wrong.” Harry was casually dismissive but Sherlock was not.

The omega pounced on her and in a heartbeat he had Harry bent backward until her head was nearly on the floor of the restaurant they were in, “Stop looking at my baby boy with filthy eyes. If I notice even ONE glimmer of that sick disgusting expression I am going to cut you slowly to pieces with my fingernails and keep you awake the entire time I feed the parts I cut off to some pigs. Listen closely Harriet Watson. You think you are safe because you are John’s sister, part of his family. You are not safe and you are NOT part of John’s family. I am his family. His children are his family. Our pack is our family. You are not in any of those categories. Behave and we’ll make an effort to see that Clara survives in one piece. Give in to your impulses and I will willingly let Singh go so I can take my time hurting you.”

“Let me go you fucking bitch!” in a blink Harry was suddenly set on her feet, dusted off and pushed gently back in her chair. Sherlock was back in his seat and was sipping his tea, not a hair out of place. He set his teacup down and looked at John’s sister who was pale and shaking, rank with fear once more. “You’ve got no right.” Harry muttered, still trying to bully her way through because she didn’t seem to know any other way to be.

“I have every right Harriet Watson. I am Khan. If I decided to, I could go to the kitchens of this very restaurant, ask the chef for his personal knife set and then use it to torture you until I get bored and I don’t really get bored anymore. You see, as Khan only one person has the rank to stop or judge me and that person is John. Do you suppose John would stop me? If someone were to protest on your behalf, I can’t even imagine who since neither your wife nor your mother are present, all I would need to do was ignore them and that would be that. Oh John might scold me afterward, but he’d forgive me soon enough because he is my alpha and I am his omega. You are nothing. You are a tool that we are using, one that has placed herself right in our hands of her own free will. You think because you used to terrorize your little brother that you have gained life-long control of him? You are pitiful as well as disgusting. You are accustomed to doing whatever you wish regardless of who you hurt, in fact, hurting people gives you the most pleasure. I would imagine Clara has rather a difficult life with you. Maybe she’s finding her new relationship with Singh to be preferable to the abusive relationship she has with you. He’ll cut her to pieces just like you did only literally and my only interest in this matter is finding him before she becomes useless.”

John cared deeply about people but Sherlock did not. He was practical about strangers. He didn’t know them, didn’t connect with them, had no reason to be motivated by their personal situations. John listened to Sherlock’s harsh words and saw in his omega’s mind plans to rescue Clara no matter what and to protect her from Harry as well, at least until Harry got some professional help and could be trusted not to harm her also beta wife. John loved his husband more than ever as he played the role necessary to scare Harry into being less grotesque around Hamish who was trying not to giggle as his mother threatened to carve his aunt up. 

Hamish could read Sherlock’s thoughts easily. As they left the restaurant Hamish thanked his mother for getting Harry to stop looking at him in that disturbing way. He really was still a child though he did know about a lot more than your average four year old; he still wasn’t interested in that part of living and probably wouldn’t be for a long time. Sherlock had been a late, late, LAAAAAAATE bloomer when it came to sex. Hamish of course understood the mechanics of it and the results because he lived in Baskerville where all the pregnant people liked to congregate. He learned things.

Since Hamish was Sherlock and had started with the advantage of having absorbed both John and Sherlock’s life-knowledge right away he had developed some very interesting talents. He could read the crowd around them feel their ebb and flow as if he was a spider on a web and each motion around him was a trigger he could sense and understand. Hamish turned to his father with a gentle smile and squeezed John’s small strong hand, “I’ll be brave.”

They were seized right out of the restaurant, bumped apart by crashing bodies and blinded with a small hood. Hamish made no sound of protest as he was separated from his parents and stuffed into a small vehicle which immediately raced away. Hamish contacted his parents right away, “This hood smells awful. We’re heading east.”

“We’ve got you tracked love, Uncle Mycroft and Aunt Anthea have everything arranged. We’re right behind you.” John’s calm soothing voice filled his son’s mind. Hamish knew his kidnappers were only doing what they were told and that harming him was not an option. Hamish was having a good time pretending to be scared. He had a whole list of pitiful comments to make that he and his siblings had come up with. Hamish had even practiced crying sadly, Sherlock showing him how to produce tears on demand, a special skill of his that Hamish of course mastered immediately. Being four helped Hamish also be nerve-gratingly annoying too as he shrilled and whined in the most aggravating way possible the entire time he was in the vehicle.

“Dad! One of them is actually grinding his teeth now. It’s amazing. I wish I could see his face.” Hamish’s litany of infantile complaints and mournful exclamations, all delivered in a loud, piercing, sniveling whine were the least the kidnappers deserved to suffer for their actions. John was proud of his son. He was indeed the spider and the fly was trapped as the web closed in.

The vehicle Hamish was in entered a small underground parking lot. “Dad, they’re meeting him here. They’ve just called him. Oh I wish this hood were off. I want to see what he looks like!” Hamish was being traded off in a supposedly secure location. Singh clearly had no real understanding of how far John and Sherlock’s influence reached. There was nowhere in London, nowhere in England that secrets could be kept from The Hounds. Between Sherlock, Mycroft and Hamish all the activities that Noonien Singh undertook to prepare for this kidnapping had all gone through werewolf channels.

He had no idea. Singh had no real idea that when he drove into that nearly empty parking lot, the lot where he had surrounded himself with reasonably loyal cohorts, that he would be enjoying his last moments of freedom. Hamish was pulled out of the vehicle that had transported him and was being led to the vehicle that held the ex-doctor Singh. Instead of simply driving off and disappearing as he had hoped Singh found himself at the receiving end of an impressive amount of weaponry, all poised to take him to pieces should he move one jot from the backseat of the now driverless car he was abandoned in.

Sherlock and John drove up with Anthea and Lestrade. A moment later, Commissioner Cole arrived heavier than ever and clearly nearly ready to deliver. Hamish was already being hugged by his parents so Commissioner Cole clapped him on the back and went to look at their new prisoner. “I can’t thank you enough Khagan, I can’t imagine a better send-off than being allowed to process Noonien Singh for you. It’s an honor.”

“Well your maternity leave won’t wait forever so let’s get going.” John was smiling as the happy Commissioner oversaw the proper arrest of Noonien Singh for kidnapping as well as an incredibly long list of international crimes, most of which were still illegal under the new system. Countries across the globe had amassed complaints wherever he had been trying to take root and bit at a time Noonien Singh had become the planets’ most wanted man. The man with no face. No one knew what he looked like but Sherlock took care of that by capturing his image and sending it around the world.

Noonien Singh was taller than John but not by much. He had short pale hair, a washed out brown that blended in with the beige of his skin. He was strangely unremarkable, dull, colorless and lacking in anything dramatic. John hadn’t known what to expect when he finally saw his enemy but this bland unassuming person in front of him simply did not strike fear in John’s heart. To look at him you’d never realize that Singh had engineered horrific human experiments for curiosity’s sake, had brutally butchered Sherlock just to grab some genetic material, and then had ruthlessly destroyed his own pet, the human wreckage once known as Edward.

He smelled terrible. Stale. Before he was taken away Sherlock stepped closer to his long-time enemy, taking in his appearance and dragging in a long breath. “You have no scent. You are wearing a chemical compound. You were known as ‘The Master’” John snarled but not nearly as fiercely as The Brothers who had shadowed John and Sherlock. Cosantoir had arrived as had Magnus, Dominic and Firinne. Lestrade peeled his lips back in a short snarl before adding Edward’s murder to the hefty list of crimes Singh would be charged with. Sherlock sniffed again and wrinkled his nose, “Rancid. God, you smell like Harry. Harry did you sleep with Singh too? You know he’s an alpha, he could have impregnated you.”

Harry looked horrified and sickened, denying profusely that she had ever even TOUCHED Noonien Singh. He hadn’t looked the same at all either; he’d clearly been wearing a wig as well as other disguises when he’d met Harry and Mrs. Watson. John had suspected as much when Harry had described her meeting with the villain.

“Where is Clara Watson?” demanded John. Singh jerked his head to the car and someone got the boot open. There was a small woman tucked neatly inside, unmoving. John checked her quickly while Harry struggled to get closer. Clara was a diminutive brunette, beautiful and breathing shallowly. John was relieved. She had been knocked out but should wake with no more than a headache.

When she did wake a few minutes later John had a private word with her before allowing Harry to approach. John was gratified to see his sister seemed to genuinely care for her wife, kissing her possessively and holding her tight. That made the expression on her face that much more delicious when Clara pushed her away and walked unsteadily towards John and the rest of The Hounds. He’d offered to take her in, to get her away from Harry and the rest of the Watsons. Clara had accepted with almost shocked relief.

Sherlock unexpectedly embraced the small woman when she got near them, sheltering her from Harry’s now abusive shouts, “Don’t worry Clara, you’re running with wolves now. You’ll never have to worry about being left to suffer. John is nothing like his family. I’m John’s husband, you can call me Sherlock.”

The poor woman shivered and cut her eyes toward Harry who was being kept back by Magnus and Firinne. Her loathing for them was greater than her desire to reach her wife. “She’ll never give me up. She’s kept me close all this time. How can you stop her?”

“Want me to kill her? I can. John? Can I kill your sister? She’s terribly annoying.” To John’s credit he barely paused at all before saying no. His sister was a terrible person but didn’t necessarily deserve to die for it.

The furor around Singh had ebbed away, leaving only the Commissioner, John and his pack behind. Singh was being transported to a specially designed cell by Anthea’s people. Harry stood there in the middle of everyone she loathed and glared at her much abused wife angrily. John patted Clara on the back, checking her neck first before looking at his sister. “As Khagan I declare the marriage between these two women null and void. Harriet Watson, you no longer have any legal association with the woman once known as Clara Watson. There you go sis, never say I don’t get you nice things. Your divorce was free.”

Harry sputtered while Clara turned shining eyes up to Sherlock, her mouth open in shocked delight, “I’m free? We’re no longer married? Oh god! Thank you! It’s been a nightmare! Is he able to do that, just say so and that’s it?”

Commissioner Cole looked at John, “Yes, as a matter of fact he can. This is the first time he’s done so but it’s well within Khagan John’s legal rights to end a marriage. You are not bonded to Harriet Watson I presume otherwise he would not be able to sunder the bond.”

“No. She wanted to but I refused. I couldn’t. It was bad enough we were married. I’ve been trying to get away for years but she….well, thank you.” Clara needed to recuperate so Dominic took her arm and led her gently to one of the waiting cars that would be taking the group back to Baskerville and home.

Hamish was grinning. “We did it dad! Mother, your plan was so good! I only wish I could have seen their faces! I wasn’t afraid, not for a second.”

“Well I was! I was terrified the entire time!” exclaimed Sherlock who wrapped his long arms around his son and hung on tight. “I was worried something might happen that he might actually get away. I shouldn’t have doubted. I’m proud of you Hamish.”

“Mother even if he’d been able to drive off with me he wouldn’t have gotten further than a block. All the streets are closed, all the underground tunnels have our people in it, we have watchers on every exit from London, the airport, the train station, the bus station and Auntie Anthea has the entire city under surveillance.” Sherlock rolled his eyes as his son listed off all the fail safe plans they had at the ready. Singh was as good as trapped the minute he had arrived in the city.

Sherlock and John bundled their son into a secured vehicle, each parent sitting on either side of him as they crowded in with The Brothers and Clara who was looking very shaken but quite pleased. She grinned at John, “Your sister hates you something fierce John. That bitch of a mother is a right piece of work too. I’ll be glad to never see any of them again.”

“I’m so sorry Clara. I’ve ignored the family for so long. If I’d known how you were doing maybe I could have stepped in sooner. You’ve been married a long time.” John did feel regret. He barely knew Clara but both Sherlock and Hamish didn’t seem to be objecting her and Sherlock had even hugged her. If she passed Ian and Mrs. Hudson’s review John would consider offering Clara the chance to become a wolf. That would keep her from Harry for eternity since Harry seemed to find werewolves repugnant.

They went to New Scotland Yard in a huge procession so Singh could be formally handed over to his jailers. A criminal who targeted the Royal Pack was of supreme interest to authority figures everywhere and Singh was consigned to the most secure cell in the city with an ever-changing rota of werewolves to make sure he stayed where he was put. The last of the paperwork had been signed off on when Hamish came up to John and tugged at his sleeve urgently. “She’s coming. Dad, dad you have to help him!”

Commissioner Cole was red in the face and gripping the table he was sitting at hard. John sniffed the air and smelled the sharp tang of amniotic fluid. “Your water just broke. People, clear off and call an ambulance. We’re having a baby.”

There were cheers and someone called an ambulance while John personally helped the Commissioner into a wheelchair brought from the infirmary and took him to the front of NSY to be picked up. In between labored gasps the Commissioner said, “It would be an honor sir.”

“Alright, just let me tell my husband.” John turned to Sherlock who merely kissed his cheek and gave him a quick hug. John was going to go with the Commissioner and deliver his baby. Sherlock and John held each other for a moment, their thoughts tangling together as they promised to meet up later. Cheekily Hamish’s thoughts butted in and he gave his dad a mental kiss and left again.

John left, content that his family was finally safe and that things had ended well. He was looking forward to helping the Commissioner. Delivering babies was always a joy and John had much experience now. With a reassuring hand on the Commissioner’s shoulder John climbed into the ambulance and waved farewell to his family as it drove away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am racing to the end now. I will be LEAPING forward in time and I'm not even using a TARDIS to do so. Just a few exciting chapters left to go.


	9. Ancient Rights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noonien Singh has finally been captured.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This gets a bit much at one point. If you have issues with graphic violence maybe wait till the next chapter and pick up the story there.

The case had drawn on for months now. Country after country sent special representatives to Paris to testify against Noonien Singh. Agencies across the globe had been trying to find him for years and the work he’d been doing still sickened John to hear of it.

Noonien Singh had been born defective but not visibly so. It was small enough, a lack of personal scent that shouldn’t have troubled him overmuch but it did. As Singh had grown his sensitivity about this strange difference grew and grew until warped hatred seemed to be all he was capable of feeling.

He hated normal people so he’d done experiments to see how far the human body could be taken apart or changed yet still function adequately. He’d experimented with cloning, ruthlessly destroying the children as they developed because he was only interested in perfecting the early stages of the process and had incrementally destroyed older and older experiments until he was satisfied he could learn no more. Then Sherlock had changed the world and suddenly everyone was neatly categorized and every single person had changed in a way that made having a scent was even more important than ever. That’s when he’d decided to make Hamish though he still would not confess to his long term plan with the clone.

Singh kept referring to Hamish as Experiment 914713. Singh insisted that Hamish wasn’t human and therefore had no right to complain that he’d been born or that his destiny was to endure the next set of experiments Noonien had set up in hidden facilities all over the planet. The things the ex-doctor had explored had made more than one of the sober austere judges that presided over the trial physically ill for most of his experiments were done without any regard to the suffering of his test-subject.

The witnesses willing to testify against Singh would have taken them decades to get through if all had been allowed to tell their tales personally. Instead a gigantic tome of affidavits spelled out their traumatic testimonies and grew bigger every week until a small library of tomes had accumulated and Singh had nothing to defend himself with. He tried to pass off guilt on accomplices and associates, but most of them had been killed during the Purge and were therefore unable to accept the blame. 

Most of The Hounds had followed John and Sherlock’s large family to Paris where they stayed in Sherlock’s maternal grandmother’s home, St. Claire. Much like the Holmes Manor St. Claire was vast, made of old stone and had a history that went back centuries. Sherlock and Mycroft had few if any living close relatives. The St. Claire branch had all but died out leaving only the traces of its former glory behind by way of luxurious properties. The brothers had very distant cousins by the score but of immediate blood there was little left.

John and Sherlock went to the court-houses every day Singh was on trial and Hamish went with them, leaving his brothers and sisters behind to wait patiently for his return. All of the children were very close and the older ones were growing fast. At the marvelous age of very-nearly-eight the mass of Holmes siblings and cousins swarmed over St. Claire in a tiny horde along with their miniature friends from Baskerville since The Brothers, their mates, and assorted offspring all came with them. It was quite the crowd. When things at the trial became distressing for Hamish while he was in the city with John and Sherlock the children would sing to him in a grand harmony, all their sweet voices echoing in their brother’s head until he was calm once more.

John, Sherlock, Hamish and a changing handful of people watched the trial from a special box in the courthouse. John was presiding more or less over the whole thing but the real judges had been picked from countries around the planet to listen to the case against Singh.

Proofs were presented. Individual after individual was called to tell their story of how they either worked willingly with Singh or unwillingly. His arrest had triggered the release of dozens of kidnapped people, researchers, scientists, doctors and all manner of people. The criminal element on earth had been substantially reduced with the changes The Breath had brought but it was far from eliminated and Singh seemed to have a real knack for finding them. In a way it was useful because the trial gathered more than just Singh for the cells. As more and more people learned how Sherlock had been simply carved open and left in a van to die, as more people learned of poor sweet Edward’s ignominious death, as more and more good and decent souls realized that travesties were being committed because their fears were holding them back.

A wave of indignation washed over people and an anti-crime wave followed. Previously empty prisons began to refill as transgressors against innocents began to be removed from their lairs and their victims saved. It sickened John all over again to see what kinds of things people still liked to do to others. Truly, nothing was sacred.

There was a new phrase out in the world, ‘running with wolves’ and it was being used for people like Clara who had been so publically saved by Sherlock and John. Packs all over the place began to offer their protection to people like Harry’s ex-wife who had home situations that were less than healthy. In most instances a guiding hand was all that was required but the Royals had heard of more than a few packs that had needed to physically scrap over their new guests to keep them from their abusers. Once again wolves had the final word and the new guests were protected.

Clara had asked to remain at Baskerville where she felt safest. She was still unchanged but she loved being with the little children and the new mothers. She and Harry had not had children though Clara had wanted them desperately. She’d missed her window or so she thought until she met Mrs. Hudson and her little angel, Maria. Clara was considering her choices and would stay at Baskerville to decide if she wanted to become a werewolf, bond with someone and eventually have children of her own. Her youth would return and it would be more than possible.

Little things like this sustained John and Sherlock as they listened to the horrors Singh had perpetrated. Hamish was resolved to listen to it all and even though it made him cry at night he sat there day after day and listened to the testimonials carefully. All of them had a hard time listening to the story of Edward.

He had been a perfectly ordinary little boy who happened to live nearby when Singh had first read about Pavlov’s experiments. The youthful Singh thought it would be very interesting indeed to see how far he could train a person to become a dog and reasoned that beginning earlier rather than later was probably best, but not too young because he didn’t want to deal with small person problems. 

Edward had been only four when he was stolen and collared. He’d been raised as a dog, trained like a pet and then Singh had found out about werewolves quite by accident and experimented. The change hadn’t gone perfectly though because Singh had nearly killed the werewolf he’d forced to bite him and something had gone wrong. Singh didn’t change and it enraged him. When enough time had passed he managed to turn Edward who wasn’t quite right afterward but he had been useful enough. When he wasn’t useful anymore Singh had made a point of breaking into Baskerville and putting down his old pet without a glimmer of regret.

Everyone in the courthouse could hear the distant mournful howls of The Brothers who were in another room of the huge building the case was being heard in. They still missed their little friend whose condition was not his fault. They’d looked into Edward’s mind and knew that he was locked in there, an eternal child, sweet, and innocent of all wrong-doing. There was no way to save him and they grieved his passing still.

A small London contingent came one day. Hamish waved madly at Commissioner Cole who grinned back and took his seat on the stand during his turn and gave his testimony in a serious voice. Donovan was down there too and she kept turning disbelieving eyes up to them as if she still could not accept the fact that the men she used to yell at and give the bum’s rush off of crime scenes to now effectively ruled the world. Hamish hadn’t forgotten about her yelling at him on his first birthday and scowled down at her, pure Sherlock-grade glowering that made DI Donovan sink back into her seat with her head hanging in shame.

Donovan had nearly gotten ill right in front of everyone when Hamish’s story was told. How Sherlock was harvested made more than one person nearly sick and how Hamish had been force-grown had people everywhere weep at the isolation he was kept in. Hamish was fully aware the entire time. Hamish’s wise but innocent eyes cast about, absorbing the reactions of everyone present as the case unfolded. There was no doubt at Singh’s guilt but those who survived him and especially those who had not deserved to have their stories heard and so they were.

They met with Cole and the rest of the Londoners briefly. “Not again!” exclaimed John but the Commissioner was grinning broadly and rubbing his belly.

“Well this one was a bit of a surprise; little Bess is only seven months old. Still, the wife was hoping for a full dozen eventually so she’s not unhappy.” Commissioner Cole was pregnant again, his third now. “Well Hamish? Boy or girl?”

Hamish looked down at the Commissioner’s belly which was well rounded and padded still from his last pregnancy. Hamish blinked for a second, “Boy this time. Congratulations!” Commissioner Cole crowed his delight and rubbed his belly again. Donovan and the rest of their representatives stood there in mute terror as the most powerful people in their world nattered on about babies and morning sickness. 

Sherlock could see Anderson standing far in the back of the small crowd and he sniffed the air, sending a thought to John. “We were right. Donovan bonded to Anderson. Well, however it started they do seem to be rather durable as a couple.” John tried not to giggle because Sherlock’s mind was dripping with contempt for both of them. Neither individual had made their lives any happier when they’d been professionally associated; both of them had been more than willing to use their authority to stymie John or Sherlock, usually out of spite rather than necessity.

Commissioner Cole had to go and because he liked and respected John and Sherlock and because they were in one of the most powerful places in the world being watched by the most powerful people ever assembled in one place he gave his farewells before bowing respectfully and deeply the Khagan and Khan.

The Commissioner bowed so Anderson and Donovan had to bow along with everyone else in their group. Sherlock was quietly smug at the mortification he could sense simply radiating off the pair of them because Commissioner Cole was hamming it up and being particularly grandiose, giving Titania a run for her money when it came to elaborate goodbyes. Hamish’s shoulders were jiggling slightly as he barely contained his laughter when the Commissioner eventually stood. With a cheeky wink the plump and dignified man led his people away.

That was one of the highlights of the otherwise grim proceeding. Finally, nearly a year after he had finally been apprehended Noonien Singh received judgement. Those who had presided over the matter convened together for weeks, going over the new laws with a fine-toothed comb and arguing every interpretation carefully until finally all heads nodded in agreement and a decision was made. It was simple in the end.

It was possible for Singh to be charged with each individual crime and sentenced to an eternity of imprisonment. Instead Singh was handed over to the highest ranking and most powerful wolf of all to be put down in public with the help of his mate. It was within John’s rights to have this and Sherlock’s as well. It was primitive and crude and not one word of objection was heard from anyone.

The arena was big and empty, a sand covered floor surrounded by tiers of observers, all grandly attired for the actualization of the judgment. It was exactly like the gladiatorial days of old, two against one in the pit. Singh knew death was coming and he had been armed with a long knife and given protective clothing but they were all tokens and everyone knew it.

John was the soldier but Sherlock was the one who hunted Singh this way and that across the sands, never shifting to his wolf but staying a man as he attacked again and again. Sherlock clawed at the ex-doctor, tearing ribbon after ribbon of flesh from him, purposefully toying with Singh even as he accepted one cut after another in order to get close enough. Sherlock’s clothing was in shreds but his cuts healed nearly instantly so there was barely even blood spilled.

Singh could not say the same. He was bleeding from dozens of places now. John had barely moved, satisfied to allow his omega the honor of ending their enemy. John was proud of Sherlock who had born all his trials with such grace. Sherlock was sublime as a predator and John relished each strike and each drop of blood his beloved spilled. They were wolves right to the soul of them and nature was as harsh as it was beautiful. One crimson trickle at a time Singh paid for all the pain he had created for so many until he was reeling and nearly unable to move. Sherlock had sliced him to tatters with his bare hands and now John came to stand before the man who had tormented them for so long. 

John looked at him. There wasn’t a part of him that Sherlock had not ravaged and John decided it was enough. He gave his omega a soft loving kiss before turning to Singh and ripping his still beating heart from his chest. John dropped it on the sand and led Sherlock away on his arm, smiling up at his mate as they left the cooling body of the late Noonien Singh face down next to it, his blood drying on their hands as they walked away, justice delivered. The witnesses stood. All were representatives of countries and interests that spanned the globe. As one everyone bowed low and in respectful silence allowed their king to lead his omega away.

The exit to the arena was packed with dignitaries from all over. With red stained hands John and Sherlock accepted bows from everyone as they made their way to the long black vehicle that waited for them. Today was no surprise and so they had left Hamish at home with the family. He didn’t need to see this personally though he had known what his parents were doing that day. The Brothers had rounded up all the children and had gone on a vast field trip instead, leaving St. Claire nearly empty.

As soon as they got back John and Sherlock raced to their suite and shut the great doors firmly. Laughing and giggling they tore away the bloodstained clothes they were wearing and stepped into a large shower to kiss and caress one another with rapidly growing passion. “God you were beautiful Sherlock, so beautiful. Savage! I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

Sherlock had been lithe and deadly, his strikes had been precise and he’d bled Singh slowly. John was impressed and more than a little turned on by what had happened. He thought that he would feel guilty perhaps because they were taking a life but the judgement called for Singh’s death and Sherlock rightly was allowed to do as he had done. It could never erase the suffering Singh had caused but for a short while he had experienced what it felt like to be taken apart and not be able to stop it. John kissed Sherlock’s fingers; now clean of blood but still as deadly. It turned John on so much, “My perfect omega, Sherlock, you fantastic creature!”

Sherlock was coy and teasing as he accepted John’s increasingly heated caresses. It wasn’t long before they were clean and leaving the shower behind so he could be picked up and almost thrown onto their big bed. John was nipping and licking so Sherlock laughed, trying to get away from the John’s tongue which was tickling him. John wouldn’t let him go and wrung peal after peal of delighted laughter from the omega before he was satisfied.

It felt right somehow to finish like this, to love one another with all the wild passion they no longer needed to hide. Sherlock was always so magnificent. The more he did, the greater he was the prouder John felt that this incredible being loved him with all his heart and soul. Today they had done their duty and exterminated a blight, ended a threat, and given back a token of the blood-debt Singh owed the world.

When their cries tangled together and could not be distinguished from one another John and Sherlock wound their limbs about one another as much as they could as they howled their way to completion, the taste of satisfaction on their lips that their child was safe at last, that their family was safe at last, that so many were safe at last. Noonien Singh was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few chapters more! Time travel in three....two...one


	10. New Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its a much different world now but John and Sherlock are content to live in it now that they are safe.

Life was a beautiful dream for a long time. The Hounds flourished, their families thrived and grew, spreading across the earth to take up the places now left empty by the newly built underwater cities. It had taken many years but so many helping hands had gone into their creation that they had grown with near magical swiftness and were works of art both for the technology they employed and for their sheer visual beauty. The wolves had decided that living away from the sun should be rewarded somehow and so they had designed their new domain utilizing the ideas and talents of every manner of artist and craftsman. Each lavish community had its own lovely name, but residents always called where they lived “The Tank”, always spoken with quiet pride.

Hamish matured with his siblings, always a close-knit group, always together as much as they were able until as a group all of them presented, all of them tenaciously holding off displaying their secondary genders until they were late in their teens. Nearly everyone else but the Watson-Holmes and the Lestrade-Holmes presented somewhere in their eleventh or twelfth year, when they were sexually mature. Not so the children of Holmes blood.

The year Hamish turned fifteen was the year when the summer moon finally brought a morning where the scent of the children had changed irrevocably. There was not a beta among them. Hamish surprisingly presented as alpha, much to the shock of everyone who had assumed he would be omega just like his mother. It was the first significant difference between the two. There was no explanation for this aberration though they discussed it at length.

Of John and Sherlock’s children Lucas, Isabel, Benson, and Tancred, all presented as alphas as well. Caledon and Farye were both pleased to discover they were omega, their personalities already suggesting their orientation toward being loving child-bearers. Of the Greg and Mycroft’s children Aurore, Greyson, and Derek were alpha. Livia and Aidric stood quietly proud of their omega status, content to follow in the footsteps of the many notable omegas who were affiliated with the widely respected Hounds.

John felt that the children had grown unfairly fast. Neither he nor Sherlock could hold them back, not that they wanted to exactly but it was hard to watch their pups eagerly leaving Baskerville for longer and longer adventures as a motley group of vastly different personalities. The entire world was their playground and they made use of it, banding together with their much-loved cousins to go on vacations all over the place, leaving their parents behind to worry and sigh with relief in equal measure.

All the children were almost horrifically intelligent. When they got stroppy it took every ounce of love and patience the two wolves could muster to not give into the urge to kill their spawn where they stood. The volatile combination of ornery Watson genes matched with the high temperament of the Holmes’ made for some memorable temper tantrums that occasionally caught all the children as a group until it was nearly a battlefield. The vacations were for the mental health of all and there was nowhere in the world that the very famous pack could go without being noted, so Sherlock and John knew their children and their nieces and nephews were being discretely chaperoned by werewolves in any country they cared to enjoy.

They liked to spend time at university campuses. For many young adults it would be conceivable that social interaction was what they sought but the children, as John always thought them as no matter how old they got, sought information. They compared library after library, delighted in spending hours reading materials both old and new, sharing with one another anything of particular interest. Their hunger for more was never sated and like Sherlock when he used to work a case, once they were interested in something they became completely absorbed in it until they understood it in its entirety. Slowly the vacations became longer and longer and eventually visits with their children were a rarity.

The Great Peace lasted for such a long time but on April 5, 2063 something happened that nobody expected. A single man had done an experiment and The Law of Unintended Consequences decided to pay earth a visit. First Contact had been made and for the first time in the history of their planet, humanity met another sentient species.

The children were ecstatic. The visitors were physiologically similar to humans and that in and of itself was fascinating. Using every manner of persuasion the children inveigled their way into the historical first meetings, managing to become assistants and eventually taking over the venture to become acquainted and familiar with the strange beings. This species valued intelligence and they were very pleased with their interactions with the young wolves.

Suddenly humanity couldn’t wait to leave earth behind. There were multitudes of beings out there! Discussions about deep space travel were revived and old plans looked at and improved upon. Volunteers were plentiful and after much work and a great deal of thought humans eventually built a vehicle capable of sustaining a large group of people for a period of time while they explored the universe. The exodus had begun.

The Hounds sat back and watched as their home world emptied one tiny bit at a time. No werewolf had any interest in leaving earth. Though the moon laid her hand lightly on them they were as much a part of their world as the oceans or the air. They did not want to leave it. It didn’t stop anyone who was interested in working on the technical aspects though. It was an intriguing puzzle, and no Holmes could resist a puzzle. The children were entirely engaged. Between the designing of more deep space vessels and their ongoing diplomatic efforts with the visitors John and Sherlock saw very little of their children.

“I hope they’re alright.” he fretted one night. John couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen Hamish, or any of the kids. Baskerville was still the preferred location to deliver babies. In its long life more newborns had passed through these famous walls than anywhere else in the world. “We should go visit. They’re just children, they need their parents.”

Sherlock was examining some interstellar samples that Siofra had procured for him, “They’re over a century old now John. They haven’t been children in decades.” John mulled that over. How did the time fly by so fast? It couldn’t have been over a hundred years already? He consulted a calendar, forcing the settings back to the old Julian calendar he understood not that star date nonsense he couldn’t figure out.

He supposed it had been well over a century but it didn’t feel like it. He and Sherlock lived at Baker Street nearly full time again, Ethan and Magnus still occupied 221 A though like them, their two children were long since grown and gone. All the children were grown up John realized and suddenly he felt the years keenly.

Mrs. Hudson and Ian had produced ten children between them, all one at a time, all treasured and adored by one very doting Dominic. Titania had two more children with Vuk, all daughters to whom Vuk had proved to be a dedicated and careful father to. Delta had formed a respectful relationship with her sire but it wasn’t the doting love that John could expect from any of his children. The Brothers were all fathers now, several times over, all of them eager for as many children as their omega saw fit to gift them with. Only Isabelle had produced multiples, four huge baby boys which had made Firinne gloat for months. Still, the Hounds of Baskerville were now an enormous family group, their pack a multitude compared to their modest beginnings of just John and Sherlock.

It was strange when Bill became a grandparent first. He had married a small but fiery alpha by the name of Matt. They had three children, a girl and two boys. The youngest son, a sweet young omega named Caleb, had met and bonded a rather surly and much older wolf named Vaughn. Vaughn had not intended to bond with Caleb who had only just matured, but when they had met, possibly fortuitously at the full of the moon, neither had been able to resist the urge to mate and bond, the wolves inside each man recognizing the other as their true mate. Caleb had gotten pregnant that very first night and presented Bill and Matt with a granddaughter named Kate.

Bill and Matt traveled a lot and took their family with them. When Caleb mated Bill and Matt shouted at Vaughn for an entire evening and then had welcomed him to their family, taking them both with them as they went from place to place on business for Baskerville. Sometimes it was years before John saw Bill in person because with screens you could talk to anyone you liked whenever you wanted so that’s what John did with most of his pack and family. It eased the constant sadness John felt at being separated from his pack-members. He couldn’t help it, it was instinct for John. He wanted to keep his family safe under his eye but John wasn’t a cruel man and let his people go where they wished with no word of protest.

Suddenly John felt that warm pressure in his head, that honey-note of love that told him Hamish was thinking of him. He felt a burst of love for his son and in his mind Hamish told John that he and the others were coming home for a short visit, a week or two just to hang around. John was intensely happy, especially when Hamish favored his father with a ghostly kiss before retreating. “The kids are coming back; they’ll be here in a couple of days.”

Sherlock tried to pretend he wasn’t as excited as John was but it was fruitless. Before long they were dashing around and packing up to head back to Baskerville, laughing and light-hearted as they got ready to see their children in person. The trip to Baskerville was quick now, the new transportation system making the trip of hours now one of mere minutes and soon they were there. Patrick greeted them with gladness. He lived permanently at the facility, unchanging in his devotion to Alexander and his undying friendship with his ex-wife Sidney and her husband Cosantoir. Their children were somewhere in Canada, working on a housing project to create a mirror of Baskerville which though vast, was still too small to accommodate everyone so they were finally building a second facility on the other side of the world.

When they arrived they found that Mycroft and Greg had also returned as their children were coming home to visit. Everyone was pleased and looked forward to the impromptu reunion of the far-flung families. On impulse John called out to the rest of the pack to see who else could come by, just for an evening together. Most were able to make it and over the next day all the old apartments refilled as one family at a time came home. It was a tangled crowd of loving greetings and endless good memories and John wanted it to stay that way forever.

When their children arrived John hugged and squeezed all of them as if they were all still small children, distributing fatherly kisses to foreheads and tips of noses. All his children were taller than John, not that he minded. He was proud of his beautiful children, all so talented and wonderful, a father’s fondest dream.

Anthea and Molly arrived with their two boys, Corbin and Jasper. John was just hugging the two boys when Bill arrived. “Oi, if it isn’t Princess John!” John rolled his eyes. Bill’s playful disrespect had never been fully tamed but John enjoyed it. At least someone remembered that John hadn’t always ruled the world.

“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.” replied John, their ancient joke traded nearly every time they finally saw one another. They embraced quickly and Bill even gave Sherlock a warm squeeze. “Where’s the family?”

“Right behind me somewhere. Vaughn and Kate are having words about some artist she’s interested in. Kids grow up so fast! She’s too young to be dating anyway.” John almost reeled. Bill’s granddaughter was already of an age to date? Hadn’t she just been born? Sherlock’s arm went around John’s shoulder as Vaughn’s distinctive human-wall form came into view.

Her voice was warm and velvety even as she argued with her massive father. John had never seen such a lovely girl. Kate’s hair was raven-black and she was a delicate blend of both parents, an omega like her mother. “Papa I’ve dated before! You just don’t like him because you’re afraid I’ll bond right away like you and daddy did. I won’t. I’m not interested in bonding. It’s just a date.”

John smiled in commiseration with Vaughn. The alpha clearly recalled his own distress when his children blithely told him they planned on increasing their social activities to include romantic involvements. John wished he was capable of having a stroke because he wanted his brain to explode at the idea of his sweet little babies becoming sexually active. None of them were shy, not even Hamish who didn’t even have the excuse of bearing Three Continents Watson genes. In this regard Hamish was also very different from his mother; he had a voracious appetite for that part of life. It was a bit unnerving actually, how all their children cut such a large swath through the dating population of the planet. They never left a displeased lover in their wake, all their dalliances were carefully casual and not one of the children ever made mention of the need to bond.

Vaughn had clearly lost this argument and simply stood beside Bill, looking stern. Kate rolled her eyes, “Hi John. I mean, greetings Khagan.” Kate bowed formally and Sherlock laughed softly.

“Well met little Kate. Giving your father grief are you?” Sherlock was fond of Bill’s children and Kate had been a delightful surprise. They hadn’t seen her in a long time.

Kate had no time to answer. That honey-note came again and with a broad smile John turned just in time to feel Hamish’s arms close tight around him in a huge squeeze, “Dad! I’ve missed you.” and then Hamish kissed the top of John’s head before letting go and hugging Sherlock just as tight. John was now being hugged and kissed one at a time by all his children and didn’t notice Hamish falling entirely silent.

John turned back and saw his son standing there, unspeaking and unmoving. There was a strange tension in the air, it almost hummed and vibrated. “John, look at Kate!” whispered Sherlock, his deep voice shocked and stunned.

Kate was standing there as frozen as Hamish. They were looking at one another and neither of them looked happy. The tension ratcheted up and suddenly the scent in the air changed as both Hamish and Kate helplessly began to emit pheromones, both their bodies straining to get close to the other and neither one of them willing to let that happen. “It can’t be.” said John but it was. It was obvious. He’d seen it happen before, with Michael. Hamish and Kate had formed a love-bond triggered by no more than the sight of one another.

Bill was standing there, as stunned as John as his grand-daughter bonded with his old friend’s son right in the middle of everyone they knew. There was absolutely no way to deny their connection; their scents were changing even as they stood there. Michael had not been able to bond properly until the full moon but since the Great Change all omega could silver when they wished. Kate’s eyes were losing color and with a gasp John realized that the two young wolves would need a lot of privacy very fast. John thought to his son, “Take her back to Baker Street. The upper room is safe.”

Without a word Hamish extended his hand and an expressionless Kate accepted it. Without saying a thing to each other or anyone else the two wolves simply left their astounded family behind to race back to London to consummate their bond. Other alphas would try and get to Kate before Hamish bonded with her but even if they could get into the flat, which wasn’t likely, John and Sherlock had years ago converted the upper room into a sound-proof room and very lockable space specifically for sharing heats. Matt broke the silence first, “What the fuck just happened!”

Bill looked down at his husband who looked like he was going to cry, “Spontaneous bond. It doesn’t happen often. We just witnessed a miracle.” All of them stood there amidst their entire family and extended pack and didn’t know what to say.

Sherlock shrugged and looked at Vaughn, “Congratulations, I’m now your inlaw.” Vaughn looked like he wanted to faint but everyone else laughed. Though very surprised this wasn’t the worst development in the world. John felt strange for a moment because Hamish was Sherlock but Sherlock was by his side and Hamish was his own man. They’d wait a few days and then arrange a visit to get to know their new daughter-inlaw and see if they too had a grandchild on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a couple more astounding chapters left to go and then this tale will be over. Comments are always appreciated.


	11. John Harrison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time has moved rapidly forward and our beloved wolves now reside on a planet now well familiar with the far reaches of outer space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a total willful and unrepentant adjustment of absolutely everything Star Trek. I didn't really want to step into the ST verse but it was inevitable in order to achieve my end goal. Surprise! Look what I did.

John didn’t know when it happened but the world had gone insane. It was Stardate 2259.55 and Earth had changed so much in the last couple of centuries that right now John would have given nearly anything to be back in Baker Street with Sherlock solving crimes the way they used to. John wasn’t prepared to be torn into so many pieces over what was happening.

Hamish and half his pack had been kidnapped and forced into a deep-space ship, taken away from Sherlock and John who hysterically began to comb one solar system after another while the rest of their children hacked into Star Fleet Academy and anywhere else they could search to see what had happened to Hamish and Kate’s family. “Have you contacted everyone? Everyone everywhere?”

Sherlock was going through screen after screen of information, nodding tersely. “I’ve even gone so far as to recruit the extended family to assist with the search, so far, nothing.” It had been months. There were rumors but it took time to chase each tip down but there were no better hunters anywhere than Sherlock and John, even the warrior species they had met had been impressed with the duo.

“Everyone? Good. Wait. You mean the ones who married off-world?” a handful of wolves over time had reluctantly left earth, only able to do so for love. One of Kate and Hamish’s fifteen children had been the first to marry her lover from the stars decades ago, leaving her pack behind to follow him into an austere and rigidly solitary existence willingly. Sherlock and John now had dozens of grandchildren and hundreds of great-grandchildren. Mycroft and Greg’s litter hadn’t been nearly so fecund but after centuries their pack had swollen in ranks as well.

“Everyone John. Every single connection we have is being used. There are a few leads; Mycroft and Greg are on the moon with their pack coordinating the search efforts from there.” John nodded. He’d been uncomfortable to learn that their telepathic connection with Hamish only worked on earth. If he’d been here there was no place on the planet Hamish could not be reached. That’s how they had known he had been taken. 

Kate and Hamish had retired to Madagascar after spending decades working together on endless projects for the Academy. Kate had indeed gotten pregnant immediately but the birth of the triplets didn’t follow the birth of the twins for nearly twenty years before Kate finally got pregnant a second time. After that she’d waited only five years between pregnancies before she and Hamish decided to give it a break for a century or so. John had been chatting with Hamish about Sherlock’s decision to maybe finally have another baby after all this time. Hamish’s honeyed thoughts had stopped suddenly and since then, no one had seen or heard from any of his large pack, Madagascar had been found to be cleared of everyone who was a werewolf.

The locals panicked. They believed wolves brought luck and prosperity, having so many prestigious ones living there wasn’t bad either. Only an hour after Hamish’s thoughts had been cut off Baskerville received communications saying several shuttles had been seen, all unmarked, all quickly departing. It was clearly a coordinated effort but who and why?

Tancred and Greyson were at the Academy where they had been firmly ensconced in the background for decades, tutored carefully by Mycroft and Anthea on how to rule from behind the scenes. They had some provocative information suggesting one of the higher level officers within their organizations might be involved. It wasn’t good news. Their respective children were scattered here and there throughout the organization, and their children were further spread around working in supporting businesses so at the Academy at least there was a heavy werewolf presence. 

It was military. It was ALWAYS the military! John fumed when he and Sherlock began to learn all the different threads that had led to the disappearance of their son and his kin. “Avarice and envy John, that’s what we’re looking at. Someone is itching for a fight. I told you weapons development would lead to this!” John rolled his eyes. He’d had nothing to do with that branch of the military though they had family integrated, as they did everywhere. Sherlock was muttering, “War-mongering cretins!” as he searched and searched for information.

Mankind had relearned warfare, if it had every really forgotten it. There were many aggressive species in the universe and most of them had decided that earth was a soft-target. They’d been disabused of the notion thoroughly but The Great Peace never fully returned. It was already a legendary golden age, lost in the past as a fading memory. Earth had participated in battles and outright wars in space several times now and had earned a reputation for being incredibly difficult to kill, even when countered with much advanced technology. Humans were tough.

Disease had reared its ugly head once again. Humans, altered even as they were, were susceptible to mutations of things from alien worlds, things that the Breath could not cure. For most of the afflicted there were hospitals made available where they received the best care possible as the science of medicine took into account xeno-biological factors. John was fiercely proud of how his family had spear-headed many of the life-saving procedures and compounds to save millions of people from suffering. They’d even managed to collaborate with other species to develop mutually beneficial medicines for their respective populations.

John gasped when he suddenly felt that long missed internal pressure and Sherlock cried out with him when Hamish’s cherished thoughts unexpectedly caressed theirs, “Dad! Mum! I can’t explain everything right now. You have to get a transporter lock on EVERYONE, moving or not, at this location! Make it a two kilometer range. NOW NOW NOW NOW” 

Their son’s thoughts were roiling with anxiety as Sherlock deftly arranged the massive lock on an entire district of London. He contacted Anthea's assistant, “Melanie is coordinating; she’ll organize the grab and drop. There are thousands of people there John! We’ll have to bring them someplace discrete.” 

“Bring them here to Baskerville since it’s nearly empty now. Everyone’s moved on to Canada. It can handle a lot of people.” Sherlock nodded tersely and his fingers flew over two separate panels. Hamish held their thoughts but was clearly busy with something that left him no time to explain. John didn’t know why they were transporting thousands of Londoners out of the city without warning but they hadn’t heard from Hamish in so long, they’d do anything to help him, to find out what happened!

“MUM! Lock and ready on my mark!” Hamish’s thoughts had grown cold now, and John was suddenly reminded of how Sherlock used to be, back when they’d first met. What had happened to their beautiful and joy-filled son? “Three, two, one, MARK!”

Suddenly John’s senses felt the shift in the atmosphere of the ancient facility. Over the years Baskerville had changed bit at a time until it had become a museum of information, an archive for every sort of discovery. In an instant the property went from feeling comfortably abandoned to being filled to capacity with a lot of very alarmed people. John was watching another screen and saw the Kelvin Memorial Archive explode in a massive conflagration, taking much of the surrounding area with it. Fatalities were zero, thanks to Hamish and Sherlock’s intervention.

“Hamish! Sweetie where are you!” John needed to see his son. Sherlock came over and wrapped his arms around John as they moved as one to speak to the people they had unexpectedly rescued. Sherlock activated the communications array and spoke calmly, “Please look at the screens nearest you. The building you were in or near has been attacked. We managed to extract you before the explosion. Please remain calm and contact your loved ones to let them know you are safe. We will give you more information the second we have it.”

Screens were on every wall all over the place. Sherlock’s addiction to information had only grown over time so when he and John rambled around their large home together it wasn’t unusual for both of them to simply park somewhere to engage in a bit of learning, or when the mood struck them, to simply engage with one another. Some desires never faded or lessened. “DAD WE’RE COMING YOUR WAY ON THE RAIL! DON’T HURT HIM OR ME!”

Why would they hurt Hamish? It could never happen. Still John and Sherlock raced to the upper levels to make it to the terminus of a transportation line that normally brought visitors from London to Baskerville. John and Sherlock shouted in dismay when they saw Hamish on the roof of the vehicle and he was fighting with a Star Fleet Officer. Grabbing the man by his shirt Hamish threw him to John’s feet before leaping off the rail cart which automatically retreated. The man in blue jumped up, snarling viciously, “Spock.” said Hamish coldly, ceasing all aggressive activity.

The man named Spock wasn’t entirely human but John suddenly smelled something familiar about the alien. “John Harrison.” said the alien, his voice as deep and cold as Hamish’s. Sherlock was staring at the tall man’s face and slowly both he and John moved to look at the unexpected visitor who looked down at them with an expression that also reminded John of Sherlock when they’d first met, “Good people, the villain behind you is extremely dangerous and is being apprehended by Starfleet to be remanded into custody as soon as possible. For your safety I would ask that you step behind me.”

Sherlock’s face quirked in a small half-smile at the alien’s words, his nostrils fluttered almost invisibly as he took in the strange scent of the being. It was dry. Dusty. There was a hint of incense and something almost sweet, like a distant but fond memory. The alien was tall, and like all his kind, almost human in appearance except for his pointed ears and a very faint almost greenish tinge to his skin which was as pale as his hair was dark. His cheekbones were high and his eyes were bright with carefully groomed intelligence.

John looked at the alien and as one; both he and Sherlock stepped to either side of their son who put his arms around them. The alien looked curious and Hamish just said, “Mum, dad, I’d like you to meet my grandson, Spock.”

Spock’s mouth didn’t exactly drop open in surprise but his eyes darted to Sherlock and then to Hamish before returning to John who DID look surprised. Spock’s head tilted to the side as he considered the information he had been given and John was the one who inhaled sharply. This was most definitely Hamish’s grandchild! Those movements were an exact copy of how Hamish used to move when he was growing up, calculated and stiff yet oddly graceful. “John Harrison, I do not know how you are familiar with these humans, you are under arrest for assorted crimes. Your accomplices will unfortunately be remanded into custody by Starfleet as well.”

“Oh. I don’t think so.” said John mildly and looked at Spock with intense curiosity which was instantly outshone by Sherlock who pushed in uncomfortably close, sniffing and actually touching Spock’s skin.

“I do not believe you are properly acquainted with the facts of the matter Mr. Harrison.” said Spock politely, addressing John directly. “I assure you, I speak on behalf of the highest levels of authority.” John just bit back and smile and looked suitably impressed.

“My name isn’t Harrison.” said John instead, and Sherlock smiled.

“Khan Noonien Singh, also known as John Harrison, you are formally charged with treason, terrorism...” Spock stood there, stiff and tall, trying to do his duty. John and Sherlock scowled at their great-grandson.

John was the first to react, “Who the FUCK named him after that psychotic asshole?”

Spock stopped trying to list charges and looked down at John. “The entity you think is your son is the criminal once known as Khan Noonien Singh. His criminal records were provided to my home-world where I was briefed before returning to my ship.”

“I guess you never visit your mum either. She would have told you her dad’s name if you’d asked.” said John who was both amused and angry. He was going to set Sherlock on finding out who decided to mar their beautiful boy by attaching that monster’s name to him. Once they found out who was responsible John would decide which one of them got to exact appropriate chastisement.

“My mother’s paternity is of no consequence and I have accordingly deemed it unnecessary knowledge. The fact that I am the product of an inferior pairing does not impede my ability to fulfill my duties. Khan Noonien Singh, you are now in the custody of…..” Spock continued but Sherlock laughed aloud.

“He’s not Khan either. I’m Khan. This is Khagan. Do you know these words?” Sherlock looked at his descendent with delight. He was entertained by the misconception. Hamish had kept constant mental contact with his parents, salving his damaged soul with their love and unconditional support. John held his beloved son in a tight mental bond, reassuring himself that his boy was safe and swearing to find out absolutely everything about what had led to this.

“Your claim to be mythical beings from centuries ago does not lend credence to your position. I’m afraid I will have to charge all of you.” Spock tapped his communicator and in a swirl of glittering light all four of them left earth behind.

John was dizzy when they materialized onboard a starship. He’d never left earth before and he felt strangely disconnected. Reaching out hastily both he and Sherlock took comfort in their bond with one another. Sherlock was very affected, dropping to one graceful knee as he adjusted to being offworld. Hamish made a worried sound and hugged his mother’s shoulders before helping Sherlock stand. They had enough time to share a quick hug before security personnel led them to a glass front holding cell. 

“Hey Sherlock look! The toilet slides in and out of the wall!” John amused himself by playing with all the cell’s features. John wasn’t worried. The second they had a chance he would demand to speak with Starfleet. Hamish was set in his own cubicle and he looked relieved when the security measures were engaged.

“Very amusing John. We don’t have long, we need to speak with Hamish. Fool around later!” Sherlock scolded his husband who stopped pushing buttons and waving his hands about to come stand beside his omega. Hamish was looking fondly at the pair of them when his face went slack. All emotion drained out of him and he stood tall. He looked dangerous. His connection with Sherlock and John shut off like it didn’t exist.

“Who are you?” he asked tonelessly. Both Sherlock and John cried out. “You know me? Tell me, who are you? Do you know Marcus? Are you his prisoners as well?” Marcus? Uncle Marcus? John didn’t know what to say and his confusion was evident. Hamish looked disgruntled for a fraction of a second but then his expression changed, all his emotions seeming to switch on. Hamish gasped and staggered back, clutching his head. Their connection with him resumed instantly. He was distressed and in pain.

“My son! What was that! What just happened? Hamish, tell me if you can.” Sherlock was reaching towards his child, blocked by the unforgiving partition. They kept their communication mental, not allowing anyone most likely monitoring them to hear a spoken word, “Hamish!”

‘Mum. It’s an implant. We were taken. Someone did something to us. Kate and the rest of them are in cryo-pods. I have to get them! You have to help me save my family! I’ve been short-circuiting it but it keeps taking control back. Someone is making me do things. I was to blow up that building and I did but I overrode the implant just long enough for you to save everyone. More is going to happen and I can’t stop it when the implant takes over.”

Indeed, they could see that their son was losing his battle again. The struggle was obvious to them as Hamish stood in his cell. One second he was their happy, loving, devoted son and then, John Harrison stood there, watching them impassively. “You do not know Admiral Marcus. You are of no use to me.” He sat himself down and began to gaze at the far wall, completely tuning them out.

John and Sherlock held each other, filled with shock and dismay. There was so much they needed to understand but both of them had felt the urgency of Hamish’s free thoughts. There wasn’t much time. Something big was happening soon. John Harrison was a living weapon someone had engaged and now John and Sherlock needed to figure out how to save their son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the seeming endless delay for an update on this story. I confess to being entirely stuck. I know what I want. The end is there, I know what the resolutions are but they refuse to be written. It's not abandoned, I swear.


	12. Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long and trying adventure the wolves have finally found their path.

John still felt sick being off-planet but it was necessary. He pushed his discomfort aside and looked at the captain of the vessel, “Melanie, how much longer.”

“Not long sir. We’re almost ready to uncloak and intercept.” Melanie had proved herself invaluable in the last few hectic weeks. Once the unspoken ruler of England after Anthea; the ex-PA had become a wolf after working with her employer for nearly three decades. Since then Melanie had tried her hand at many things, becoming one of the few werewolves that had the capability and interest to navigate the stars. Leaving home had not troubled her the way it did so many. John and Sherlock had arranged this vessel for her. If she succeeded in this mission it would be hers outright, her pride and joy, “Dark Haven” it was named.

Sherlock was sitting silently on a form fitting chair, eyes closed and his long beautiful body swathed in rich fabrics that kept his gender a mystery to everyone now. After all this time Sherlock had slowly changed until he could appear male or female with a simple shift in body language. His androgyny was nearly perfect, even the deep baritone of his voice had subtle feminine characteristics now. “John, we’re close. I can almost feel him now.”

Sherlock was trying to link with Hamish. It was so difficult because John Harrison was blocking his attempt. Nothing had worked out the way Khan and Khagan had hoped. They’d been delayed several times with the sheer bureaucratic stubbornness of underlings until John had finally been forced to Dom an entire room of Starfleet officers to get one of them to contact Starfleet headquarters.

Spock was horrified that he’d arrested his own great-grandparents. Starfleet didn’t want to believe that Hamish had been meddled with but Sherlock got strident and eventually called everyone’s parents until the Academy was filled with shouting elders demanding the truth. By the time truth had been sorted from fiction Hamish was long gone and the horrors began.

There was so much death. Lives were lost that never should have been in jeopardy. Hamish was in the thick of it, his face clearly recognizable. Werewolves everywhere spread the truth as quickly as they could, someone knew a way of controlling a werewolf, someone had stolen Khagan’s child and altered him. Fear was in the air and Starfleet was nearly torn to pieces as The Great Family searched for their missing pack.

John wanted to howl. His son had been packed away like a frozen dinner and shot off into space along with Kate, half their children and everyone else who had been in Madagascar when they’d been kidnapped. To find that one of their own officers had managed to create a war on his own home planet sickened everyone who learned the facts. Admiral Marcus was sick; his mind degenerated by some kind of disease that made him capable of such overwhelming treachery! The lies he had told! The blames he had laid! So many people had suffered because of his insanity John and Sherlock were afraid they’d never find everyone affected.

Sherlock hunched himself over his research again. He’d found a way to disable the implant that was growing inside Hamish and presumably everyone else. If things went right their natural werewolf healing should fix all that had been toyed with and they would have their boy back. Hopefully. Sherlock tested and retested the device, searching for weaknesses, trying to think of everything he could to help his son.

Spock and his entire crew had nearly lost their commission when it was discovered he had illegally detained both the Khan and Khagan. There was no law on earth that allowed for it. Even in space, on their Federation ships wolf-law superseded everything. The entire crew had been compelled to give their personal apologies to John and Sherlock who didn’t give a fuck. They just wanted their son back. Eventually they spoke to someone named Bones who got things sorted out with Spock and someone named Jim. John had started at the name but it belonged to a wholesome looking man with a fiery personality and not one hint of artifice. They were personally returned to earth by a small ginger man who could not stop staring at Sherlock, “You look just like him. You’re his mum?”

“Yes.” said Sherlock and looked forbidding. The small man kept talking, chattering away about his impressions of John Harrison and seemed entirely awestruck to be in their presence, his mouth running on without being able to stop. He smelled nervous and worried as well as anxious. Sherlock was too engrossed with his own plans to pay the slightest attention, hardly even noticing when they were transported to Melanie’s ship.

“We’re close now.” The ship was within range and their communications officer contacted the ship, delivered the proper codes to abort their mission, and access to the entire collection of werewolves being held. John’s hands were clenched tight around Sherlock’s they were delivered to the ship and escorted by the quaking captain to where the cryo-tubes were being stored.

“Open them. All of them. Now.” ordered Sherlock. The captain hesitated and John growled menacingly, “You answer to Star Fleet and they answer to me, so don’t think for a second you can try to pass the proverbial buck back to Earth! Open the tubes. _NOW_.” Sherlock was furious with impatience and the captain came to his senses, ordering the crew to disperse and begin the process of opening each tube with as much haste as could be managed.

Sherlock and John did their best to make sure everyone was cared for but the second Hamish began to wake they could not leave his side, “Mum!” Hamish clung to his parents, wracked with pain, “I can’t hold on for long.”

“You don’t have to little one, we’re fixing you right now.” Sherlock pressed a small device to Hamish’s neck and everyone heard the hiss of the cure being delivered. Hamish jerked reflexively a single time before passing out, “He’ll wake up in a few minutes with a rather decent headache. I’ve produced enough for everyone.” John helped distribute doses to different people and diligently worked to make sure each and every werewolf was treated the second they achieved consciousness.

Each groggy wolf was taken back to Dark Haven and ensconced in a room, family units bunking together for comfort. Nearly everyone shifted and soon the ship was hurtling back toward Earth with the largest complement of werewolves ever to see the black together. Hamish asked his parents to stay with him and his wife as well as other close members of their pack. Everyone piled together in a huge furry heap to sleep and heal together. It would take days before the organic invader was completely disassembled and gone from their bodies. For most of them the psychological scarring would take much longer to heal. Most had been forced to do violent things against their will, actions their temporary master had deemed appropriate for his insane agenda.

Everyone went home to Baskerville. It had long been a place of great safety for werewolves and all the kidnapped wolves needed to feel protected while they overcame their traumas. Much like on the ship, all the wolves opted to stay together as a pack, allowing the days and hours trickle by as their bodies recovered and their minds adjusted to the changes. Sherlock and John checked everyone over obsessively, their need to take care of their pack at its peak. Everyone came home. The Brothers stood watch with their spouses, all the original families returned to Baskerville and brought with them their generations until miles of tightly packed safety surrounded the rescued wolves.

The story was released. The world was appalled to learn of how one of their favorite sons had been abused by Marcus. Hamish was well known to many and though his actions as John Harrison had caused much grief that person no longer existed, only Hamish remained. The young wolf was the recipient of millions of well wishes for recovery and their home in Madagascar was waiting for them along with their many friends whenever they felt up to returning. It took a long time before Kate and Hamish were able to move comfortably throughout the facility, none of the rescued wolves quite sure of their own motivations and filled with self-doubt and recriminations. All of them felt they could have resisted more, somehow stopped the travesty that was forced onto them. Healing took time.

Nearly half a year went by before the wolves dispersed back to their territories. Hamish kept in constant contact with his parents day and night for weeks before he’d been able to just be with Kate. Their children and grand-children were doting and supportive, the far-flung wolf packs rallying together to care for the primal family. All of Hamish and his siblings roamed the earth together as a pack the way they used to, some returning back to their hometowns for short periods for work or obligations but otherwise they fussed over their baby brother and his family constantly, reassuring themselves that he was there and that Hamish was safe. They kept him company and spoke to their parents nearly every day. John and Sherlock were content.

A year after the rescue Sherlock and John were once again nearly alone in Baskerville. They were amusing themselves with a walk and had just returned to their suite, “John, I think I want something.”

“What would you like love?” John kissed his husband with a smile and waited to hear his latest request.

“I want another child.” Sherlock was smiling down at his delighted alpha.

“Really? Another little one? You know, between the two of us I think we’ve got all the ingredients to make that happen.” John was more than thrilled. He had always wanted more children but it was Sherlock’s decision and with the first round he’d done rather well. John was going to need a memory aid soon to recall the names of all their descendants.

“Well I thought, why not give birth every hundred years or so, keep things fresh.” teased Sherlock who was being pulled into the arms of a very happy alpha.

“I hope you have a dozen this time.” said John breathily. Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Or one. I don’t care. Whatever you want Sherlock, that’s all I want.”

“What I want is you John Watson.” Sherlock knew perfectly well how to drive his lover wild and did so with sinful ease. “I like that I don’t have to wait for the moon.” said Sherlock softly and as John watched Sherlock’s eyes turned silver, “My alpha.”

“God you are so beautiful.” John was awestruck for a long moment, he felt like he hadn’t properly appreciated the sheer artistry of the man he had wed so eagerly so long ago. John’s appetite for Sherlock had never been blunted no matter how the years had rolled by. Sherlock was always exciting and stimulating, always arousing and enticing. The shade of his lips, the thickness of his lashes, the blush on his pale cheek, the curl of his shining hair, all these details and a million more always made John thank the universe for allowing him to exist just to worship its penultimate creation, “My omega.”

Sherlock allowed one filmy layer of his clothes slide off his shoulder, followed by another and another until he was standing in a pile of discarded fabric. John’s nostrils flared as he took in the scent of his omega in heat. Years of experience had tempered the impetuous wildness that once drove them mindlessly. The pull was still powerful but John and Sherlock knew how to wring even greater pleasure from their natural drives.

It was rough, bloody, loud, and destructive. John and Sherlock snarled and scrapped with each other with ferocious intent, their rugged biology enabling them to combine a measure of pain into their love-play until Sherlock was pinned to the bed chest down and ass up while John claimed him. Both men howled as their bodies met. They let loose their grip on civilization and rutted brutally with one another for the sheer delight of it. John had long since mastered the techniques he needed to bring Sherlock to orgasm again and again, making his omega thrash and moan until his voice was rough.

The heat stayed high for three full days before their temporary madness left them. Their suite stank of sex, the air thick with pheromones. John was sore everywhere but at least he was able to move a bit which was more than Sherlock could do. The omega lay flat on his belly, legs and arms splayed everywhere as he hummed and smiled to himself, too blissed out to care about anything other than being John’s. John puttered about setting things to right and cleaning up before carrying Sherlock to a fragrant bath to soak and eventually begin thinking again. It took a long time, a fact of which John was excessively proud of. “We did it.”

Sherlock was lying in the water, his long fingered hand splayed over his board flat belly. John was washing Sherlock’s legs with a soapy sponge, “I know.” Sherlock’s scent had already changed. He was pregnant and both of them were exhausted but thrilled. “Another little one, I can’t wait. I love being a dad.”

“You’re a very good one. I wonder how many I’ll have this time. We won’t know for two months at least.” Sherlock would only show one heartbeat for the longest time but at least this round they knew what to expect. No one knew more about werewolf pregnancy than they.

“I’m curious too but like I said it doesn’t matter. Maybe you’ll have just one, maybe you’ll go for a full litter again, we’ll just have to wait and see.” John helped Sherlock out of the water and led him to the kitchen where the omega allowed himself to be fed by his doting alpha. They both felt the warm touch of Hamish brush against their minds and let their son know he was no longer going to be the baby of the family. Hamish was ecstatic over the news and broke off to go tell his brothers and sisters.

“This one will be born into a very different world than our first litter was born into. We’re exploring the stars now, maybe this little one will be  a star-farer too.” Sherlock stroked his belly again.

“Perhaps, most likely he or she or they will find a country that suits their taste and bunk down forever like all the rest of them.” Their pack was evenly scattered around the planet affording John and Sherlock many reasons to travel frequently to visit.

“Or maybe this child will be like Kate and find someone to settle down with immediately.” joked Sherlock who was intensely fond of his daughter-in-law. She and Hamish were a good fit, each balancing the other perfectly just as John and Sherlock balanced each other.

“With our luck our new child will fall in love with one of those aliens we keep meeting and begin a whole new hybrid race of were-aliens. How cool would that be?” John never got tired of learning about new species, an interest that Sherlock shared. The permutations of sentient beings the universe had allowed to flourish was a never-ending wonder. That reminded John of something, “Whatever happened to Hamish’s grandson, the one that arrested us?”

“He’s off with his crew on a deep space exploration mission. They go fairly regularly.” John and Sherlock redressed and went for another walk, this one lazy and aimless. They had nothing pressing to do, had nowhere they absolutely needed to be, and they were expecting a baby. No day could be finer.

Eventually they were out on the moor. The breeze tugged at Sherlock’s long curls, throwing them this way and that before racing off to tease the brambles and the heather. John shifted and raced around happily while Sherlock laughed and clapped at John’s tricks. The sun shone softly on the two of them when John shifted back into his two legged form to take his husband’s hand. The sun was setting and with great love and affection John and Sherlock linked hands to watch the colors bloom together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for this final chapter to be posted as well as to the many many people who took their time to not only read this monster but to contribute ideas and suggestions. That kept this story going for so long and I could not have done this without all the encouragement and thought-provoking ideas that were provided. I had no idea when I began that this tale would spin so far and cover so many things. Thank you all for being a part of that.

**Author's Note:**

> Tags are updated as the work develops. Please review!


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